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COPYRIGHT DEPOSrn 



Dramatic Poems 

Songs and Sonnets 



Dramatic Poems 

Songs ^ Sonnets 

BY 

Donald Robertson 

^CTOR 




ALDERBRINK 



Seymour^Daughaday ^ Company 

Fine Arts Building Chicago III. 






\i'^ 



Copyright, 1915, by 
Donald Robertson 



APR -7 1915 

©G! A398365 



75 
■MRS. HAROLD F.y4cC0R'J^ICK 

The 

Gracious, Gentle, and Generous 

%is Book 

7s Jiumbly Dedicated 

by 

Jier Servant 



CONTENTS 



Dramatic Poems 
The Dusty Road 
Three Cronies 
Christopher Hodge 
Sir Ego and Lady Thine 
Tant Mieux . 
Tant Pis ... . 
The Palace of Dead Hopes 
A Weathercock 
A Scarecrow 
A Maid o' the Mist 
A Crucified Cupid 
Romance 
Reward . 

The Price of a Song 
A Tragedy 
An Odd Man 
Passers By 
From First to Last 



PAGE 
1 
10 
11 
18 
24 
28 
30 
32 
33 
34 
36 
38 
39 
40 
41 
42 
44 
45 



Beauty's Lady : a Sonnet Sequence 

Beauty's Lady ^^ 

An Episode ^^ 

A Vision ^^ 

The Wandering Jew 53 

Which? ^^ 

The Torture Chamber 55 

An Accident 56 

A Banquet 57 

Ecce Homo 58 

Spring 59 



CONTENTS 



A Far Cry 

Morning . 

Noon . 

Midnight 

Shadows 

Whispers 

A Dream 

The Tornado's Heart 

Summer 

In the Woods 

Together 

Forever . 

Prospect 

My Ambition . 

A Glad Day 

Repose 

A Divine Comedy 

Even So . 

Comfort 

Autumn . 

Impressions 

Just An Idea . 

Forced Joy 

Distraught 

A Sad Day . 

A Barbarian . 

A Castaway 

As Ye Sow 

A Long Journey 

A Bouquet 

The Foundling 

A Ghost . 

Ships 

Remembrance 

A Poor Player 

Winter 

Mirage 

The Verdict . 

A Passing Word 

The Last Word 

A Footnote 



page 
60 
61 
62 
63 
64 
65 
66 
67 
68 
69 
70 
71 
72 
73 
74 
75 
76 
77 
78 
79 
80 
81 
82 
83 
84 
85 
86 
87 
88 
89 
90 
91 
92 
93 
94 
95 
96 
97 
98 
99 
100 



CONTENTS xi 

Songs and Ballads page 

What Shall Be Said of These Songs of Mine? . 101 

A Little Song 103 

Recognition 104 

Love's Coming 105 

A Song for the Children 106 

Hush 107 

Rest Thee 108 

A Thought 108 

Heigh-Ho 109 

A Song 110 

My Lady 110 

To Beauty Ill 

A Little Whisper Ill 

The Last Hope 112 

Love 112 

A Pagan Lilt 113 

Life 113 

A Love Song 114 

A Toast 114 

A Duet 115 

Two Songs 115 

Unless 116 

Love and Life 117 

Her Words 117 

My Sweetheart 118 

Dear Heart 119 

Did You But Know [from the French] . . .120 

Resemblance [from the French] . . . . 121 

"As You Were" 122 

A Prisoner 123 

Dream Bliss 123 

Bohemia 124 

Harmony 125 

A Love Letter 126 

In the Days that Never Come to Pass . . . 127 

Spring 128 

An Autumn Idyl 129 

The First Born 130 

Brothers 131 

Grumpy's Song 131 



xii CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The Ballad of a Bouquet 132 

The Ballad of Silence 133 

The Ballad of Fame 134 

Contrasts and Conceits 

A Sketch 137 

An Ideal 138 

The Ideal 139 

The Oldest Art 140 

Liberty, Equality, Fraternity 141 

Hamlet Born 142 

Shylock Dead 143 

Hedda Gabler 144 

Hester Prynne 154 

Playing With Fire 146 

Heart to Heart 147 

Poverty 148 

Death 149 

Sorrow's Crown 150 

Duty's Kiss 151 

Talent 152 

Genius 153 

Idle Words 154 

Peccavi 155 

A Christian 156 

A Cannibal 157 

A Reformed Rake 158 

A Magdalen 159 

Marriage 160 

A Valentine 161 

The First Kiss 162 

The Last Kiss 163 

A Farce 164 

Loneliness 165 

A Chance Acquaintance 166 

A Life Sentence 167 

Hope Deferred 168 

"A Moment's Monument" 169 

Heredity 170 

The Last Look 172 



CONTENTS 



A Vague Report 
The Prompter 
Dream-Pastures 
To Those I Love 



PAGE 

173 
174 
175 
176 



Rhymes and Runes 
Cupid's Jest 
Body and Soul . 
Follow the Lead . 
The Dawn Fairy 
The Devil's Dream 
Creation 

A Red Letter Night 
A Protest . 
The First Dream . 
To a Friend 
"A Young Man's Fancy" 
Phryne and the Fool 
Misunderstood 
When I Was Young 
I Sing, Hurrah 
The Bitter Cup 
The Meanest Man 
A Country Lane 
To an Old Tune 
At Maiden Lane 
A Rolling Stone . 
The Way is Long 
Her Wedding Gown 
Her Overshoes . 
Her Petticoat 
Her Parasol 
Her Little Hat 
Her Small Kid Glove 
In Beauty's Name 



179 

181 

182 

183 

184 

185 

186 

187 

188 

189 

190 

191 

192 

193 

194 

195 

196 

197 

198 

199 

200 

201 

202 

203 

204 

205 

206 

207 

208 



Fair Women and Brave Men 
To Mrs. H. F. McC. 
Shakespeare 

Algernon Charles Swinburne 
Edwin Booth 



211 
212 
213 
214 



CONTENTS 





page 


Mary Anderson 


. 215 


Ellen Terry 


216 


Julia Marlowe 


. 217 


Ada Rehan 


218 


Maude Adams. 


. 219 


Madam Nazemova .... 


220 


Henrietta Grossman .... 


. 221 


A Brother Artist .... 


222 


Madonna Mia 


. 223 


Anna 


224 


To Anna 


. 225 


Mrs. I. N. M 


226 


To MY son's Mother .... 


. 227 


An Acrostic 


228 


Shakespeare's Birthday 


. 229 


To Marie 


230 


When the Mother Passed . 


. 231 


To a Little Girl .... 


232 


To another Little Girl 


. 233 


To MY Boy .... 


234 


Theodore Roosevelt .... 


. 235 


To A. J. B 


236 


On Margaret Robertson's Portrait 


. 237 


Arab 


238 



Dramatic Poems 



DRAMATIC POEMS 




THE DUSTY ROAD 

UNDONICHIE is fair to sec- 
Hold on to Truth, hold fast to 
Truth,— 
And there lived golden-haired Marie, 
A wind-blown bud of melody, 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 



The tender lines of girlish grace, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 
Were in her figure, and her face 
Was wistful Beauty's resting place, 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

The hopeful Springtime's crisp delight, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 
The peace of gloaming Autumn's night. 
Lay in her eyes, so calm and bright. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

She was a thing of joy complete, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth ,- 
From open forehead to her feet 
That tripped to Nature's rhythmic beat. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 



DRAMATIC POEMS 

A lonely shepherd years before, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, — 

When searching in the stars for lore 

Had found a Gipsy by his door, 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

A tawny fearless Gipsy maid, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, — 
Had from her roving comrades strayed, 
And there for shelter begged and prayed. 

On the dusty road to Paradise. 

The shepherd took the Gipsy in, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, — 
She came from where his thoughts had been, 
The far-off East that first knew Sin, 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

He gave her cakes and milk of goat, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, — 
He watched her throbbing breast and throat, 
And mystic love his man's heart smote. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

She thanked him when her dark eyes smiled,- 
Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, — 

She fell asleep on sheepskins piled 

Before his fire, a woman-child. 

On the dusty road to Paradise. 

Lost in his thoughts till crow-o'-cock, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, — 

The shepherd sat, then turned the lock. 

And went afield to tend his flock, 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 



DRAMATIC POEMS 

His ewes and lambs he thought of least, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,— 
The Sun and She came from the east, 
To warm his heart, his Soul to feast. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

His round he made, then hastened home, — 
Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,— 
Beneath a faint rose-tinted dome 
Of dawn, to say, "Maid no more roam" 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

He plucked some wild flowers as he sped, — 
Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,— 
He proffered and she chose the red, 
And wove them round her raven head, 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

E'en younger than her daughter now, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,— 
He kissed her eyelids and her brow. 
And each to each made mutual vow. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

In due time came God's gift, Marie, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,— 

To make a perfect family. 

Of three in one, and one of three. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

The child grew up as Nature willed, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, — 
The mother's restless blood was stilled, 
The shepherd's cup of joy was filled. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 



DRAMATIC POEM S 

The years Hew by like startled fawns, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, - 
And left the child's face like the dawn's, 
The mother's like a dream in bronze. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

Long nights and sombre indoor days, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 

Would find the shepherd, silent, gaze 

Into the Spirit's mystic maze. 

On the dusty road to Paradise. 

These hours the Gipsy would beguile, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, - 
With legends first told by the Nile, 
Of gods, and mortals, love and wile, 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

How Luna roams untouched by fears, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 
For hosts of stars with shining spears 
Attend on her where she appears. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

Then when one winter's snow lay deep, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, - 
The shepherd babbling of his sheep. 
Closed his cold eyes in his long sleep, 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

The Gipsy fain would then depart, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 
But Marie tethered by the heart 
Held back, and would not, could not start, 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 



DRAMATIC POEMS 

A dowie year and more dragged by, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 
With longings smothered in a sigh 
And dim forebodings hanging nigh, 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

Then in the second summer time, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 
A Minstrel with his careless rhyme 
Came singing from a distant clime, 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

He tuned his harp and then would sing, — 
Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 
Of hate that dies by its own sting, 
Of Love that conquers everything. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

The Gipsy's soul stirred in its lair, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 
And Marie's face grew wondrous fair, 
As though a smile becalmed lay there. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

As bird to cooing mate-bird calls, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 

By silv'ry sylvan waterfalls. 

He sang to Marie madrigals. 

On the dusty road to Paradise. 

And listening 'neath the summer moon, — 
Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 

Her water-lily soul would swoon. 

Into the current of his tune, 

On the dusty road to Paradise. 



DRAMATIC POEMS 

Abandoned to a heavenly mood, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 
She only felt and understood 
That life through him was very good, 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

And lost in dreams of bliss, saw not, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 
The Gipsy with fierce longings fraught, 
The Gipsy with desire distraught. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

The Gipsy through whose veins at last, — 
Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 

The pent up passion of the past 

Pulsed like a fiery furnace blast. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

A surging, craving passion dire, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 
A desecrating mad desire, 
That burned like wild volcanic fire. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

The Minstrel, though the maid was blind,- 
Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 
As if by lightning saw the mind, 
That in the famished Gipsy pined, 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

Between a blessing and a bane, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 
The fairy-fabric of his brain 
Stretched on the tenter-hooks of pain. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 



DRAMATIC POEMS 

And then alas! alas! ere long, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, — 
He hovered between right and wrong, 
And lost the blessed gift of song, 

On the dusty road to Paradise. 

Then when a boding silence fell, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, — 

The Gipsy with alluring spell, 

Drew him within the arms of hell, 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

Meanwhile Marie both night and day, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, — 
Was haunted by a vague dismay, 
And crept forth to the woods to pray. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

There in its deepest shadow place, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, — 
Unseen, she saw the Minstrel's face, 
Within the Gipsy's warm embrace. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

For one brief biting moment saw, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, — 

Then felt a numbing horror draw 

On her an avalanche of awe. 

On the dusty road to Paradise. 

She felt stunned, broken, chilled and choked,- 
Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, — 
Sunk in such night as Egypt cloaked. 
And raven-like a Death-head croaked. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 



DRAMATIC POEMS 

For her the future, present, past, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 
Was hopeless, hideous chaos vast, 
Whereat the soul stood off aghast, 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

As mute as marble was her breast, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 
Until the sun with haze oppressed, 
Blushed crimson in the vacant west, 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

And then a grim thought came to her, — 
Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 

Like child born in a sepulchre, 

To be Fate's wrathful minister. 

On the dusty road to Paradise. 

What followed, Fate alone then knew, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,- 
As in her brain a strange power grew. 
Back to her father's house she fiew. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

Saw the flushed Gipsy's glad proud look, — 
Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,— 
Quick from the wall a dirk she took. 
That hung beneath a shepherd's crook. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

Three swift footsteps the silence broke, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth,— 
And then a sure swift vivid stroke, 
And, "Die," the only word she spoke. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 



DRAMATIC POEMS 

The Gipsy fell face-forward clean, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, — 
Then Marie drove the dagger keen. 
Her own pure snow-white breasts between, 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

The Minstrel rushed in, saw the whole, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, — 
Heard Marie get of speech control, 
"I killed her body, she your soul," 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

"Live on and be forever young," — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, — 

"Singing the unknown lands among. 

Unheeded, in an alien tongue," 

On the dusty road to Paradise. 

So said, she passed as all souls must, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, — 

Pain, pleasure, plassion, love and lust. 

Heaped in a little mound of dust. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

The Minstrel took two strands of hair, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, — 
One golden, one black as despair. 
And wove them into harp-strings rare. 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 

Then wandered off to ways unknown, — 

Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, — 
Where songs of last year's birds have flown, 
And tares are reaped, and tears are sown, 
On the dusty road to Paradise. 



10 DRAMATIC POEMS 

'Tis said he joined in vales untrod 
The fallen angels Eis-teddfod, 
Away behind the back of God; 
And sings through an eternal youth, 
As his harp-strings sob to human sighs- 
"Hold on to Truth, hold fast to Truth, 
On the dusty road to Paradise." 



T 



THREE CRONIES 

HREE cronies met beside a casket cold. 
And one was in his prime, one young, one old. 
Two knew the corpse the casket did enfold. 



Then said the eldest, who is named the Past, 
"Around the maypole Hope he danced when last 
I saw him with no cares o'ercast." 

The middle-aged surnamed the Present said, 
"It seems but now he raised his eager head 
To see Love go and fall back free and dead." 

The third, the Future, with veiled eyes made moan, 
"I claim, although to me in life unknown 
This dead Dream coffined in a heart of stone." 



DRAMATIC POEMS 11 



CHRISTOPHER HODGE 

HE was all a mistake, a fellow I knew, 
From beginning to end, if you looked all 
through 
A life-record of times gone by, 
I have doubts if you found there so odd a case, 
As this fellow I knew, with a scholar's face. 
And whose life was a deep, long sigh. 

Would you like me to tell what I know of him? 
It might raise up a pitying thought, tear-dim, 

Or perchance be counted a bore; 
No! I hope if it's that, you will say, "Enough", 
When you please, time is short, why waste it on stufif 

That kills time, and does nothing more. 

To begin, I have heard that his birth was bane 
To his father, a man of old books; nor gain 

To his mother, unloved, unblessed. 
Who had plucked, in the dawn, from the flowers that 

grew 
By her way, and alas, not lillies but rue 

She had chosen to wear on her breast. 

She had been but a poor light plaything of sin. 
Drifting down to the sea, the great sea, wherein 

Time's impurities all are lost. 
But I think she looked back, with a longing eye. 
To the pastures of peace she had left, Ai! ai! 

For the waves that are passion tossed. 



12 DRAMATIC POEMS 

Of his father, this much, be the rest forgot: 
In a rebel moment of life, he begot 

The poor friend that I afterwards knew; 
Then he burrowed for truth in his books again, 
And he lost all compassion and touch with men. 

Aye, and lost himself, somehow, too. 

The lad's age was eighteen when the father died. 
The poor woman went out on an ebbing tide 

Before that, and Christopher Hodge 
Was alone in the world with his mother's name, 
And a crave for the pure, and a sense of shame. 

That had come in his soul to lodge. 

At a school in the country he lived till then. 

Where they taught him the use of his tongue and pen, 

Where they saw all the strength he lacked. 
To supply, not develop, was their one way, 
Some think it the best for the world's work-a-day, 

Being finite as any fact. 

In the ignorant bliss of unthinking youth, 
He came up to the city, and learned the truth 

Of his birth; like a lightning flash 
It scorched hope in his soul and put out the sun. 
For the future seemed all by the past undone. 

And the world round his ears a-crash. 

"For what use? For what use is my life?" he cried. 
And the devil, astride of his heart, replied, 

"To enjoy the sweet juice I wring 
From the days that I pluck from the vine of Time; 
So fill up a bumper, and drink deep, and rhyme 

Me a rhyme to the tune I sing." 



D RA MA T I C POE MS 13 

Well, he drank and he danced till his young blood boiled, 
Every pleasure the body could give, despoiled, 

As he clutched at the hour's delight, 
Made a dash from himself, and with spurs of fire 
Dug the flanks of the courser he rode, Desire, 

Far into the shadow of night. 

Rode on faster and faster, until at last 

He was thrown in the dark, with the hateful Past 

At his throat like a Nemesis, 
Reawakened from out of the Infinite, 
And refreshed for the sleep he had given it. 

On his face he could feel it hiss. 

"Now, Sir Fool, you are mine, just to break or bend 
As I will, till the days of your life shall end, 

And the dust takes again its dust; 
Through the dim dismal glass of a might-have-been, 
You shall see afar off in a mist of sin, 

O'er the body of Love stands Lust." 

For a space on his soul fell a clammy chill. 

And he shut his eyes tight, but the fiend was still 

By his side, saying, "You are mine, 
Through the low lying lands of despair and slush, 
I shall bid you laugh wildly, I'll bid you hush. 

What I will, you shall do, in fine." 

As the goad that enrages a captive bull, 

Till its poor bursting brain with its blood is full, 

And its wild eyes glitter and shine, 
So the quick of his soul by that thought was touched, 
And he sprang to his feet and the fiend's throat clutched, 

And cried, "No! by God, you are mine." 



14 DRAMATIC POEMS 

And he wrestled and fought till his foe lay dead 
At his feet, and alone in the dark, he said, 

"God help me," Then lo! in the east 
There arose a Hope-herald, rose-crowned, with light 
On its face, and with peace in its hand, and night, 

And the darkness of doubting, ceased. 

Now I think it was then he found out this truth, 
That he ought to have learned in his early youth, 

In the years that promise and pass, 
That a shadow is but the effect of light. 
But a stain may be like, yet is unlike quite, 

Aye, and different quite, alas! 

But be that as it may, he took up his life 

And he worked, though his works, swallowed up in strife, 

Seemed like still-born deeds of a dream; 
For he met with a cynical smile and sneer, 
In this age of thin varnish o'er thin veneer. 

In this age trying hard to seem. 

Ere the hard hand of habit at last was laid 

On his heart, and unchallenged he heard it said, 

"Starve on fancies, men live on facts," 
The old crave for the pure repossessed his soul, 
And an unfulfilled feeling ran through the whole 

Cause and compass of all his acts. 

He was not quite enough for himself you see, 
And for such, a heart only can heart-help be. 

With respect tying Love's shoe-string. 
So it chanced, he met a young maid, passing fair, 
With dark-lined, peering eyes and a wealth of hair, 

And a mouth that might make sorrow sing. 



DRAMATIC POEMS 15 

And they loved each the other completely, well, 
In the circle Fate drew round their lives, a spell 

Of dream-bliss soothed and hallowed all ; 
The fringe of a cloud is the gift of the Sun, 
So the light that lay round them seemed sent from One 

That doth mark e'en the sparrow's fall. 

You might search o'er the earth, and no one, I ween, 
More contentedly glad, could by you be seen, 

Than was Christopher Hodge that day; 
When he called her his wife — his wife — Paradise 
Seemed to open before his bewildered eyes, 

And his thankful heart knelt to pray. 

Here at last was the pure his own, very own, 
A fit jewel to gem the arm of the Throne, 

A glory, a gladness, for aye; 
And by day and by night he strove after grace. 
To be worthy to look on her pale, pure face. 

Hear her voice, soft as Love's own lay. 

Every yearning his heart had was toward the good, 
To be rapt and entranced in a heavenly mood. 

To be near her his high Ideal; 
To have soul clasp the soul as the flesh had done. 
And be, past all Time's limits, entirely one, 

And be sure that that hope was real. 

In the white heat of such an intense man's life. 
All she had been and was and should be, his wife 

Brooded over, it urged her on. 
Enticed her, compelled her to make herself known, 
To reveal, aye, though Heaven and earth should moan, 

What she was in her life's gray dawn. 



16 D RA M A T I C PO E M S 

In the shivering gloom of an autumn night, 

She said, "Chris, I was not all you thought, a blight 

Smirched my life, in the days gone by; 
Tears and prayers of repentance at last brought peace, 
Till you came and believed in me; bid me cease 

To live on, but believe no lie." 

The thud, thud of his heart, thud on thud repeat, 
He could hear, and it seemed like the dull drum-beat 

Of the funeral march of Hope. 
Then his eyes came from vacancy and said, "Live!" 
And his lips, ashen white, said, "I — I forgive — 

To the light, to the light we grope." 

And well nigh to a year, they trudged side by side 
Up the hills to the Light, and in truth defied 

The grim thoughts that unasked would come 
When o'nights they would sit and a silence fall. 
And a ghost of the past write upon the wall, 

"You must think though ye both are dumb." 

Then the tired woman sickened and turned her eyes 
To the east, and a faint smile of sweet surprise 

Seemed to light up their filmy grey; 
And her husband bent low, and she said — "One kiss," 
And then quietly, gently, "I loved you, Chris" — 

The next moment she went away. 

For a day and a night he sat there alone 

With his dead, like his dead turned all into stone, 

Dead to hope and to fear alike. 
Then he rose and cried, "God! if a God there be, 
Answer this, why you make me a mockery. 

Is there nothing Godlike to strike?" 



DRAMATIC POEMS 17 

"You shall not, by this knife in my clenched right 

hand, 
Try me more, I have striven to understand. 

But I cannot, this life of pain; 
Now I come — list! have mercy, and grant this prayer. 
All I ask, may we not know each other there, 

Only love, only love remain." 

He was all a mistake, from the first to last. 
As I said, and his work was as thin dust cast 

In the face of a fierce north gale; 
All a strange sad mistake from his very birth, 
And the passionate sun and the patient earth. 

Saw him struggle awhile and fail. 



18 DRAMATIC POEMS 



SIR EGO AND LADY THINE 

1 THINK it will end in a laugh, 
You fear it will end in a sigh, 
Meanwhile 

With a smile 

Let us quaff 
A bowl to the dim bye-and-by. 

Recalling the time that we met, 

Forgetting what falls in between, 
I seem 

In a dream 
To be set 
Again at the feet of my Queen. 

You smiled and revealed Heaven's grace, 
Ere off on our separate ways 

We went, 

And content 
For a space 

Filled up my unquestioning days. 

Indeed, in a nimbus of rest, 

I lived as a Soul that had come 

To wait 

By the gate 

Of the Blest, 

For joy, satisfied to be dumb. 

When after a year we were brought 
By Fate face to face once again, 



DRAMATIC POEMS 19 

A shade 

That was made, 
So I thought, 
By doubt was upon your brow then. 

Or was it a fancy of mine? 

Perhaps, either way I was made 
To feel 

I should kneel 

At the shrine, 
Where oft in my dreams I had prayed. 

To kneel and confess all the love 

A man for a woman can feel, 
A wild 

Joy beguiled 

From above 
To come at the Soul's call to heel. 

Mtrable dictul you heard, 

With such a sweet look on your face, 
I felt 

As I knelt. 

In a word, 
My Soul in an angel's embrace. 

You gave me no word, it is true, 

Of hope, but I did hope, you know 

The why, 
So do I, 

I pray you 

Will pardon me telling you so. 



20 DRAMATIC POEMS 

Forgive too the exquisite truth 

My memory conjures up now, 

You pressed 

To my breast 
In uncouth 

Hot grasp with my breath on your brow. 

Your brow and your lips and your eyes 
I kissed, did I not? Did I not? 

You blush 

And a flush 

Of surprise 

Makes answer you have not forgot. 

Surprise that I should question, eh? 

All right! but we parted you know, 
Because 

By the laws 

Of fair play. 
You let me see why I should go. 

Yes, go and go quickly, for he, 

My friend, thought himself beloved too 
By you! 

To be true 

And to be 
Half honest, what else could I do? 

But first e'er I went, you asked, I 

Should keep 'neath the roof of my heart 

Your own 

Empty throne 
Till I die 

Forever for you set apart. 



DRAMATIC POEMS 21 

Unless! ah, and here was the sting — 

Some day or some night you should come 

To me, 

Silently, 

A lost thing 

Of joy knowing sorrow's full sum. 

Benumbed by the ghost of a dream 

Of Love you would seek Love itself, 

And claim 

In its name 

All we deem 

Beyond envy, passion, or pelf. 

The promise you asked for I gave. 

But knew as I spoke that I stood 

Beside 

The ebb tide, 

The tenth wave 

That drowns all of hope that seems good. 

Permit me to fill up your wine, 

Do I chatter too much, mon ami? 

No? No? 

Not although 
I design 

To ramble on incessantly? 

The promise you asked for I kept, 

And lo, for a third time we meet, 
But, Queen, 

In between 

Us has crept 
The sound of his ghostly dead feet. 



22 DRAMATIC POEMS 

The ghost of my friend who loved you, 
Whom you loved till death suddenly 

One day 

Took away 

From the view 

And sound of the sun and the sea. 

The sorrow that made your heart ice, 
Through days then of feverish strife. 

Was not 

Though I wot 

The chilled vise 

You feared once might hold you through life. 

It was not so cold as a love 

Grown cold, or so full of regret, 

You still, 

If you will, 

Say thereof, 

With calm looking forward, — kismet. 

Do you? Pray, but stop, why should I 
Ask you! It should be sufficient 

For me 

That I see 

You here by 

My side — should I not be content? 

Yes, truly, if one could go back 

And swoon on a sweet stolen kiss, 

But strange 

There's a change 
And a lack 

Of something in both that we miss. 



DRA M AT I C POEM S 23 

Perhaps it may be we have grown 

To think of each other too well, 
The hour 

Of Love's flower 
Was full blown 
Too soon, and too soon its leaves fell. 

Time leaves us at last simply friends. 
Expecting great things each of each, 

We strain 

Now to gain 

DiflF'rent ends, 

For difif' rent Ideals we reach. 

Your touch does not thrill to my touch, 
Nor glance answer glance as it did. 

Ehew! 

We are two, 

And so much 

For doing what damned Duty bid. 

What's that? You say, how the hours pass? 

Must go? Nay, but clink a good night. 
And laugh 

As we quaff 

Our last glass. 
Good heavens! Little One, you look white. 

Sit down! Are you ill? Are you faint? 

You smile, but that look in your eyes 
Says plain 

You're in pain! 

My sweet saint. 
There! there! pray don't try to disguise! 



24 DRAMATIC POEMS 

More air! Good! So! lean here your head! 

Dear Soul, my lost Love, how you start. 
"Adieu, 

I loved you" 

What! She's dead! 
Great God! I have broken her heart! 



TANT MIEUX 

^'Tant pis and tant mieux being two of the great hinges in French 
conversation." Lawrence Sterne, Sentimental Journey 

THE story of this simple scroll 
Is not from Fame's long rigmarole, 
It's somewhat queer and rather droll. 

It's true; 
"Its chance of hearing then is small," 
Said someone whom I won't recall; 
Eh? "Come on, let us hear it all," 

Tant Mieux. 

I'll be as brief, then, as I can, 
And tell the story of a man 
Whose life was made upon a plan 

Not new. 
A life with no desire for state 
Or rank, or what the world calls great; 
He held that God controlled his fate, 

Tant Mieux. 



DRAMATIC POEMS 25 

I met him first in student days — 
When life seemed set to roundelays, 
That sang of nothing but Love's praise; 

Echew! 
Why even now, sometimes, he seems 
Part of the rainbow colored dreams, 
That from the past shed gentle beams, 

Tant Mieux. 

He lived up in a garret high, 
Where he could see the swallows fly 
Across the housetops, near the sky 

So blue; 
For fifty years, from sun to sun. 
He toiled, until his glass was run, 
And then he said, "Thy will be done, 

Tant Mieux." 

A singing soul had Jean Laplace, 
And so you see it came to pass, 
That music, sweet as sprinkled grass 

With dew 
He wrote, and sold too, it appears, 
While round his heart, delicious tears 
Kept fresh his nature all these years, 

Tant Mieux. 

A thin old man whose gentle eyes. 

Had never lost the first surprise, 

With which they saw Life's morning rise 

In view; 
Of summer's heat, of winter's snow, 
He always said, '"Tis better so," 
Or words to that effect, you know, 

"Tant Mieux." 



26 DRAMATIC POEMS 

He came while quite a lad, you see, 
Up from the South to "beau Paris," 
And none more pure, more good than he, 

More true, 
Have set aside all thoughts of gain, 
Have made a pleasure out of pain, 
Have had, to all their thoughts, refrain, 

Tani Mieux. 

He loved once, with a boy's strong might, 
A maid as pure as virgin light. 
That wells forever from God's sight 

Anew; 
To him she seemed a holy thing, 
Sent here to do God's minis 'tring, 
And all the airs of Heaven to bring, 

Tant Mieux. 

In summer when the nights were long. 
Among the vines she sang her song, 
The village loved Louise Ferron, 

Called Lou 
By him who through his coming life 
Saw her amid its joys and strife — 
Forever as his blessed wife, 

Tant Mieux. 

But— 

Her mother chose a convent cell 

For her young life; now, if 'twere well 

Or no, I am sure I cannot tell, 

Can you? 
Jean's love, however, knew no taint 
Of self, he never made complaint, 
He once said, though, "Now she's a saint, 

Tant Mieux.'' 



DRAMATIC POEMS 27 

And then he came to Paris gay, 
To hide his bitter grief away. 
But never to the past, to say 

Adieu! 
Ah! no, the memory of her face 
Made bright his lonely little place, 
And gave his life a tender grace, 

Tant Mieux. 

Here he wrote music by the sheet, 
It was not strong, but oh, 'twas sweet 
As babbling brooks, or rustling wheat, 

And you, 
If you had heard his old violin 
Disperse the darkening clouds of sin, 
You ever after would have been, 

Tant Mieux. 

Year after year, earn what he could, 
It scarcely paid the price of food, 
Of scanty raiment, coal, and wood; 

He grew 
Year after year more gray and bent. 
But never from his heart was sent 
A word to Heaven of discontent, 

Tant Mieux. 

And then when nigh to death he lay. 
On mercy's errand bent, one day 
An old nun came, and strange to say 

'Twas Lou; 
Back from his face his hair he cast, 
And o'er his eyes his fingers passed, 
And then he said "You've come at last," 

Tant Mieux. 



28 DRAMATIC POEMS 

She, mid her tears, "Jean, you believe!" 
"Ah, yes," he said, "there, there, don't grieve, 
I've nothing on this earth to leave 

But you." 
And then 'twixt dreams and mem'ries riven, 
He wispered out the word "Forgiven," 
And then — "We meet again in Heaven, 

Tant Mieux.'" 



TANT PIS 

IN truth this is a sad story. 
With neither mirth nor mystery, 
A woman with a history. 

Ah me! 
Too plentiful her kind you say. 
The miserable, rank mud-spray, 
Dashed from the mad wave of their day, 
Tant Pis. 

From childhood she had had no guide, 
Her father fought for France, and died, 
Her mother, but a year old bride. 

To be 
Beside him followed, and then came 
A lonely girlhood, then — why name 
The bitter hours that brought her shame, 

Tant Pis. 

Enough that when I met her, gone 
Was all the fragrant blushing dawn 
Of modest maidenhood, and on 

Julie, — 



DRAMATIC POEMS 29 

That was the name men knew her by — 
Despair had settled, like a sky 
Opaqued with clouds her life, you sigh 

Tant Pis 

For this poor painted chaos, well 
'Twas sad, for still within her Hell 
Sometimes she dreamed of Heaven; they tell 

How she 
When once a man to gain her grace, 
Said, "Pure wives envy you your place," 
Made answer with a tear-stained face, 

''Tant Pis." 

Her life nigh gone, companions sent 
For Rome's absolving sacrament, 
The good priest said, "Ah, girl, repent. 

And see 
A new life dawn on you through faith;" 
But wearied out, just at her death, 
She whispered low with her last breath, 

''Tant Pis." 



30 DRAMATIC POEMS 



THE PALACE OF DEAD HOPES 

IN lands of mist and mystery and phosphorescent 
light, 
A sentry ghost treads up and down and guards by 
day and night, 
The Palace of Dead Hopes that once seemed fair to 
human sight. 

A palace built of frozen tears that fell from baby eyes, 
Upon the border-land of Time, when fresh from 

Paradise 
They opened at the dawn of pain, and opening were 

made wise. 

There lie in state the Hopes, that once made music 

and made mirth. 
Upon the everlasting fair adorable green earth, 
Some old and wrinkled, some that drew their last 
breath at their birth. 

Some died poor weaklings and the music in their 

hearts was dumb, 
And some from overpraise went mad, and ah! alas, for 

some, 
The taper-lights had flickered out and dawn had not 

yet come. 

Pale Peace that claimed them left for gift their 

memories behind, 
A fragrance faint that lingers still around Life's weary 

mind. 
Balm-giving as rose odors on a summer's dewy wind. 



DRAMATIC POEMS 31 

Down to that palace, came from where the seasons hold 

their sway, 
With mien of stiff-kneed uprightness and dressed in 

drabbled gray, 
A ghastly spectre, pale, with eyes that lacked the 

light of day. 

At its approach a challenge fell upon the misty air — 
A challenge from the sentry ghost, "Halt! answer who 

goes there". 
"My name is Doubt," the spectre said, "the brother 

of Despair." 

"I know ye not! What seek ye here upon this holy 

ground?" 
Replied the ghost; a silence fell, then through the 

silence, sound, 
"The face of my great foe I seek, say, may he here 

be found?" 

"Advance no further till ye give his name," the 

sentry said. 
"The Hope of Immortality," moaned Doubt with 

bended head; 
Quick answer came, "Begone, thank God that Hope 

is not yet dead." 



32 D R A M A T I C P E M S 

A WEATHERCOCK 

A WEATHERCOCK perched on an old church 
spire 
Aloft and alone; far below 
The world followed Duty or blind Desire, 
Around were the free winds that blow. 
(From where they will come who can know?) 

For years like a stoic he held his stand, 

And felt the warm sunshine or snow, 
North, south, east, or west he was forced or fanned. 
Around by the free winds that blow. 
(From where they will rome who can know?) 

The bashful new moon he had seen on high, 

Like Love's shining shoulder aglow. 
Emerge from an ocean of deep blue sky, 

Unveiled by the free winds that blow. 
(From where they will come who can know?) 

But never the weathercock's heart was stirred, 
By aught that the seasons could show, 

Till out of the darkness a haunting word 

Was brought by the free winds that blow. 
(From where they will come who can know?) 

And lo! where the east by the west is met. 

Were lilies of fire bending low 
Before the wan face of divine Regret, 

Sharp stung by the free winds that blow, 
(From where they will come who can know?) 

And since then, blow whither it will the wind, 

The weathercock turns to and fro, 
Unsatisfied, aching again to find 

That face, in the free winds that blow, 
(From where they will come who can know?) 



DRAMATIC POEMS ZZ 



A SCARECROW 

A SCARECROW, in a field of corn, 
Stood broken down, well nigh. 
But through the sunshine or the rain, 
His face still faced the sky. 

The ravens filled with strange alarm. 

Flew by with startled cry, 
When seeing 'tween his wind-tossed arms 

His face still faced the sky. 

But once a dove from out a wood 

Came cooing forth a sigh. 
Now, though the scarecrow yearned for love. 

His face still faced the sky. 

And so he missed the love he sought. 

And soon he drooped to die. 
Unheeded, broken, on the ground, 

His face still faced the sky. 

The dove a mate soon found, indeed, 

Why should she longer try 
To win the scarecrow fallen low? 

His face still faced the sky. 

She took his heart of withered straw, 

To line her nest near by, 
And scarcely noticed as she passed, 

His face still faced the sky. 



34 DRAMATIC POEMS 



A MAID O' THE MIST 

A FAIR maid of the mist, 
That no mortal had kissed, 
Fell in love with the Man-in-the-Moon, 
And beside the great sea, 
In the night, plaintively. 
Sang him this, to a tear-laden tune. 

"With the fullness of sorrow my soul is oppressed, 
And I long for your valleys and caves, 

Where the sound of men striving disturbs not your rest. 
Tramping down through the mire to their graves." 

"Lift me up then and comfort me, take me, I pray, 
To your arms, to your heart, lonely king. 

And in caverns we'll hide from the fierce glare of day, 
And at night on the mountains we'll sing." 

"With the joy that is born of a pure love fulfilled. 
All my soul shall be thrilled through and through, 

When as day-dawn approaches, the night winds all 
stilled, 
I shall sink into slumber by you." 

At the sound of her voice. 

Did his lone heart rejoice, 
Did he yearningly whisper, "My own;" 

Round his home in the sky. 

Where the Dream-angels fly, 
He engirdled a gold woven zone. 



DRAMATIC POEMS 35 

And sent down from his height, 

A frail ladder of light, 
Made from quivering beams of a star, 

Then from earth the maid passed. 

Nor a backward look cast. 
To the moon's lonely regions afar. 

The old Ocean alone 

Saw her go, and made moan, 
Aye, and follows her still with its tide. 

For its waves stretch their hands 

To the far away lands. 
Of the Man-in-the-Moon and his bride. 

In that land of dead fires. 

Is she past all desires. 
Has her heart touched its uttermost scope? 

And so far from earth's woes. 

Is there perfect repose, 
In a calm, above Fear, beyond Hope? 



36 DRAMATIC POEMS 



A CRUCIFIED CUPID 

WHEN roses and forget-me-nots 
And lilies shed perfume, 
And in the hedges round the plots, 
The nests were in full bloom; 

When every spear of grass was dipped 

In a nepenthe bowl, 
And fleecy clouds, with wings undipped, 

Coquetted with the Soul; 

Prince Cupid's little sweetheart came 

Within dull sorrow's ken. 
And thought she only had to name 

Her name to maids and men, 

And then, the verdant earth would seem 

As fair as Heaven afar, 
And round each life a peace would gleam, 

Like glory round a star. 

The thought of what had been, would be 

As discord to a tune. 
And hearts, as free as is the sea. 

Would turn to her, their moon. 

The beauty then of Holiness, 

Be manifest indeed, 
The holiness of Beauty, less 

A fancy, more a creed. 

The struggling soul, in manhood's breast. 

Would never meet mishap, 
But when tired out would sink to rest, 

In neighbor Nature's lap. 



DRAMATIC POEMS 37 

Alas! Alack! poor little thing, 

On gentle errand bent, 
With music of the spheres to sing, 

And quick with good intent. 

How could she know that Lust was here. 

With subtle, scheming mind. 
Begemmed and jewelled with many a tear 

Wrung from deceived mankind. 

When she came here, he whispered, "Vain 

Is all she has to say. 
The rose will fade, the thorn remain. 

Drink deep then while ye may." 

And man deluded, anger stirred, 

Crushed down his half regrets, 
And, "Crucify her!" was the word, 

"On stacked up bayonets." 

Tormented by her pleading voice, 

With ruthless hands they slew 
The babe, that said, "O men, rejoice. 

The good you see is true." 

And there with outstretched wings she hung. 

Her curls a golden grace, 
Around the pitying smile that clung 

Like dew to her dead face. 

Since that sore day Prince Cupid flies. 

An arrow in his hand. 
And smites with pain, that never dies, 

The children of the land. 



38 DRAMATIC POEMS 



ROMANCE 

WITH music, with mirth, and with gladness, 
Young Summer arose from her lair; 
Arrayed in bright sunshine and shadows. 
She sauntered across the green meadows. 
And fastened a rose in her hair. 

From woods where the winds sing of sadness 

Lone Autumn beheld her and sighed; 
Then ran to her, caught her, carressed her. 
And called her his own as he pressed her, 
She smiled on him once and so died. 

To him came an infinite sorrow, 

And by her he laid himself low; 
Then Winter came down from the mountains. 
And seeing them hushed all the fountains. 

And covered them over with snow. 

Beside them he watched till one morrow 
The child Spring came fresh as a wave; 

And when she had heard their sad story. 

Child-like for a space she felt sorry. 

Then planted snowdrops on their grave. 



T 



DRAMATIC POEMS 39 



REWARD 

WO women loved a scholar all his days, 
A man whose soul was filled with dreams of 



peace, 

A man to whom the world and all its ways 
Were empty babble that ere long must cease. 

One woman's life was pure as drifted snow, 
The other's, coiled like snow that men have trod; 
One only knew through joy the power of woe, 
The other felt outcast from man and God. 

One springtime, when the violet veil of morn 
Was lifted from the opening eyes of day. 
Upon the hope that with our life is born, 
The scholar's soul in silence went away. 

Within a year, the pure maid gave her heart 
Unto a husband, and found Love's sweet grace; 
The other from the whole world drew apart. 
And prays some day to see the scholar's face. 



40 DRA M ATI C POEM S 



T 



THE PRICE OF A SONG 

HOUGH he lived in a tenement house, 
Yet the flooring he trod on up there, 
Was the ceiling that others below, 
Looked aloft to in doubt and despair. 



He had sung of the fields and the flowers, 
Of the dusk and the dawn and mid-day, 
Of the star-beams embroid'ring the sky, 
Of the sea where the waves are at play. 

Yet for all of his songs he had starved, 
And he cried in despair, "Oh, renew, 

God, my strength, to bid men lift their eyes 
To the fair face of Truth, bathed in dew." 

And a thought, like a wave on the shore. 

Seemed to rush o'er his mind, parched and dry, 

A command, as it were. Duty gave, 
To interpret the city's hoarse cry. 

So he wrote a great soul stirring song, 

From the jumble and jar of the street. 

From the whirring of unceasing wheels, 
And the onrush of unresting feet. 

And the meaning of Life was made clear. 

Why the struggle is needed for strength, 

And a haven of Love hove in sight. 

Where the restless shall find rest at length. 

Then the multitude crowded to crown 

The poor poet, unnoticed till then, 
But they found, ere they came, watchful Death 

From his fingers had taken the pen. 



DRAMATIC POEMS 41 

And the mandate again was fulfilled, 

Old as Hope's baby whispers of Heaven, 

That before a new song can be sung, 

For that song first a life must be given. 



A TRAGEDY 

FAR away in Palestine, 
A young vine. 
Round a stately cedar pine 
Sough to twine, 
And she whispered, "I am thine, 
Let me in thy arms recline, 
I will give the sacred wine 
For the Shrine." 

But, where waves and winds combine. 

His design, 
In bright glory's light to shine 

Was; in fine. 
He said, "Thou wilt ne'er be mine, 
My top-peak shall fly the sign 
Of a ship in battle-line 

On the brine." 

Ere the year was in decline, 

A malign 
Cruel Fate cut short repine; 

With cold eyne. 
Said unto the tree "Now whine, 
Thou shalt be a yoke for Kine, 
And on her lo! there shall dine 

Unclean Swine." 



42 DRAMATIC POEMS 



AN ODD MAN 



50ME day as down the street 
I walk with idle feet, 
We two again shall meet 
Face unto face. 
Shall all that made a beam 
In our eyes to us seem 
Banished as is a dream 
Ofif into space? 

Shall then a glad surprise 
Light up each other's eyes 
As if a Paradise 

Opened to view? 
And as the glad tears start 
Shall heart then say to heart, 
Though we have been apart 

Each has been true? 

What though the eyes have kept 
Vigils, and long have wept. 
Into their depths has crept 

Clearer insight; 
What we would, what we could. 
Then shall be understood, 
Doubt and its sorry brood. 

Taken to flight. 



DRAMATIC POEMS 43 

Or, with averted gaze, 
Thinking of other days. 
Shall we pass on our ways. 

From dusk to dawn? 
Shall then no word be said 
Save that all hope is fled. 
And Love the King is dead. 

Let him sleep on? 

Natheless which way it be 
Pregnant for you and me 
With mirth or misery 

Boundless as space, 
Some day as down the street 
I walk with idle feet. 
We two again shall meet 

Face unto face. 



44 D RA MA TI C POEMS 



PASSERS-BY 

A TEA leaf and a poppy leaf 
Were caught in Love's delight, 
A child of cheer, a foe of grief — 
A Tea leaf and a poppy leaf — 
A cycle of the joys in brief 

That lie in day and night; 
A tea leaf and a Poppy leaf 

Were caught in Love's delight. 

A Wraith of steam, a puff of smoke 
Went drifting down the street, 
And turned to tears and grimy coke— 
A wraith of steam, a Puff of smoke — 
A woman with her poor heart broke 

Beneath Sin's sooty feet; 
A wraith of steam, a puff of smoke 
Went drifting down the street. 

A High thought and a low thought, 

A gulf immense between, 
What wonderful white devil brought 
A high thought and a Low thought 
Together, by a web that caught 

The heart of Beauty's queen; 
With a high thought, a low thought, 

A gulf immense between. 



DRAMATIC POEMS 45 



FROM FIRST TO LAST 

Good Morning 

AH! Good morning! Clear sky! 
Long the way I must go; 
Yes, the mountain is high, 
But, good morning, clear sky, 
Must surmount, and must try, 

The crowd travel too slow; 
So, good morning; clear sky; 

Long the way I must go. 



Good Ntght 



AH! Good night! Glad we met; 
On the valley lies mist, 
Those behind I regret. 
But, good night, glad we met. 
It was worth all the fret 

To be once by you kissed ; 
So, good night; glad we met. 
On the valley lies mist. 



BEAUTY'S Lady 

A SONNET SEQUENCE 



BEAUTY'S LADY 

A SONNET SEQUENCE 




BEAUTY'S LADY 

^=^^^^^^'^^^^?^^^ ^HE Spring came and smiled and 

behold I saw you; 
Love held to my lips then a clear cup 

of dew, 

It gathered at dawn where the white 

lilies grew, „ , t , 

^ Beauty s Lady. 

Revealed to my senses then incarnate Good, 

In infinite majesty modestly stood, 

And moulded my soul to a sweet solemn mood. 

Beauty's Lady. 

As stray chicks of song seek the mother-bird tune. 
The hopes of my heart heard a comforting croon 
And 'neath your Soul's wings nestled down in a swoon. 

Beauty's Lady. 

I saw you and faded dreams blossomed again, 

A new sense of power stirred with life in my brain, 

For excess of joy it bit back the birth pain. 

Beauty's Lady. 

49 



50 B EA U T Y' S LA D Y 

A new sense of power with flame wings to aspire, 
And light on the mountain tops beacons of fire, 
To flash forth glad tidings of holy desire, 

Beauty's Lady. 

I heard you, and fresh from Sound's limitless sea, 
A message was blown of the Truth that makes free, 
With clear undertones of divine Sympathy, 

Beauty's Lady. 

A message of Love that is able to scan 
The oneness of all in God's wonderful plan 
Of matter and melody mingled in man. 

Beauty's Lady. 

I touched you, and into my soul's prison pen 
It seemed Light itself became audible then 
And Song shone as Sunshine to me of all men. 

Beauty's Lady. 

Ah, Springtime of Women! ah, lark throat of Song! 
Be near me in spirit the whole season long, 
That my life like yours may be pure, simple, strong, 

Beauty's Lady. 



BEA UTY' S LA D Y 51 



AN EPISODE 



A DAY-DREAM led me forth from Mammon's 
mart 
To where was breathing space, and pointed 
to 
The promise of the Spring fulfilled in you, 
The home of Truth on Beauty's vernal chart, 
I lingered by the fireside of your heart 

To warm the chilled sense of my soul, numbed 

through 
By fogs of Sin, and cold Neglect's dank dew. 
And biting winds blown thwart the peaks of Art. 
Songs that the poet hears but never sings 

Cheered me, and in the intervals, deep glooms 
Of Silence, incense-laden from the blooms 
Of God, lulled me with restful offerings, 
I was made strong and happy — yet 
Since then my soul has known a vague regret. 



52 BEA UT Y' S LA D Y 



A VISION 

CLOSER than clasp of flesh, my eyes embraced 
A Vision strayed from God's anointed place, 
With midnight hair brushed back from 
Morning's face, 
With Spring's glad confidence in clear lines traced 
Around her mouth and eyes, from neck to waist 
A holy casket for a heart of grace, 
With lithe limbs anxious, for a fleeting space, 
To follow footprints that the glad gods paced. 
And when she spoke, it seemed the breath of Dawn 
Blew back the curtains of the tent of Dreams, 
Who saw my prostrate soul and crystal beams 
Of Love's own light in pity shed thereon. 

Merciless Fate! mysterious and unknown, 
Why came that Vision to this heart of stone? 



B EA UT Y' S LA D Y 53 



THE WANDERING JEW 

CROSS-BURDENED, faint, and thorn-crowned, 
The Great Man 
Asked from a Jewish cobbler place to rest, 
Before he reached the lonely barren crest 
Of self-renunciation, but the wan 

Sweet lips were answered with, "Move on." — Then an 
Offended God decreed thus, "Be oppressed 
And wander Jew forever toward the West, 
Mocked by the sunset Peace you can but scan." — 
When Truth's ubiquitous white wings had brushed 
The forehead of my soul in search of place 
To rest in, did I welcome it apace, 
Or was its voice in passion's tempest hushed? 
Ah, Lady of the dawnrise, dreams and dew, 
You are God's Peace, my heart The Wandering 
Jew. 



54 BEA UTY' S LA D Y 



WHICH? 

WHEN Dusk has spread his tent where Day 
had been, 
And Nature's altar lamps are trimmed 
anew, 
When from the folded wings of Strife, the dew 
Of tears repentant wipes the dust of Sin, 
In such an hour, shall she come calmly in 

And lay her lips on mine and kiss me? Through 
That kiss shall I not wholly know the true 
Beatitude of Love, Life prays to win? 
Then all the tangled chords of troubled Care 

Shall fall from ofi my soul, set free through her. 
Together we shall breathe the open air 

Of Truth, I too like her its worshipper; 
Ah, God! must this not be? but with quick breath 
Sharp on my mouth instead the kiss of Death? 



BEAUTY'SLADY 55 



THE TORTURE CHAMBER 

WITHIN a castle, that a poor fool built 
In empty idle hours, on Time's syrtis 
Skirting the seas of two eternities, 
There is a chamber, opened by the hilt 
Of poignant Sorrow, where Hope's blossoms wilt 
In the numb vacuum of Passion's kiss. 
And where are seen dead dreams that went 
amiss, 
And gaping wounds in Feelings slain by Guilt. 
Faint strains of phantom music's Might-have-been 
Float from the curtains of the Past's gray pall, 
And in the centre on a pedestal 
Of Peace, lit up by glory from within, 

The Unattainable, past reaching hands, 
A Woman like a Grecian goddess stands. 



56 B EA UT Y' S LA D Y 



AN ACCIDENT 

ACROSS the blue star-tesselated floor 
Of Heaven, once a Hope in wanton play 
^ Danced to the music of an unblown May, 
Behind it was the shining pearl door 
Through which again it entered nevermore, 
For suddenly it slipped across a ray, 
Where like an orange rind the new moon lay 
Stripped from the golden age in days of yore. 
Down, down it fell into my heart of stone 
And dug itself a cave wherein to hide 
Its poor frayed wings torn at its bleeding side 
And smother Memory's unceasing moan. 

Outside its door I lay my Life, and wait 
The final issue of the work of Fate. 



BEA UT Y' S LA D Y 57 



A BANQUET 



FATE led me to a banquet hall to dine, 
A wonderful wide overhanging vault 
Walled by the hills of burnished steel cobalt, 
And bade me at the board in ease recline, 
On which, clear crystal vessels like Eyes shine 

On cultured dove-like dreamings without fault. 
And Words of wit sharp stung with Attic salt, 
And smiles like Omar Khayyam's vital wine. 
I might, had I not sued the gods for peace, 
And sent from brazen Duty's altar-mesh, 
The incense of the sacrificial flesh. 
Know why my gnawing soul finds no surcease. 
Is it I starve, because I am alone 
And so the bread of Life turns to a stone? 



58 BEA UTY' S LA D Y 



ECCE HOMO 

THOUGH Art had gently lisped its polished 
phrase, 
And tinkled rhyme bells for the twinkling feet 
Of laughing senses, dancing in complete 
Security of uneventful days. 
My soul heard voices calling through the haze, 
And fain would follow them, more fain would 

greet 
In twilight lands its One Ideal sweet. 
Where murmuring sound intones eternal praise. 
What stayed its flight, flushed flame o'er all its snow- 
White longings, and gave meanings new 
To old ambitions, bathed with tears of dew 
Its opened eyes to Beauty here below — 

God's Kingdom come on earth as 'tis above? 
This — Passion's parched throat gasping out, "I 
love." 



BEAUTY'S LADY 59 



SPRING 

BIRD calls, and quick breath from Earth's parted 
lips, 
Half-startled glances from expectant eyes 
Peering from cloud-lids in uncertain skies, 
As Nature lashes laggard gloom with whips 
Of rain, and from her lap lets fall cowslips 

And crocuses, so great her haste, she cries 
To every living thing, "Awake! arise!" 
And laughs till tears gleam at their frightened quips. 
Then sudden promptings from eternal Joy 

Pulse through my veins, and vaguely prophesy 
The coming of the Mate the deathless boy 

In me awaits — She, Beauty's Lady! — my 
Full meaning set to an ecstatic tune 
Beneath the pure rays of God's love-lit moon. 



60 BEA UT Y' S LA D Y 



A FAR CRY 

BENEATH the verdured mounds that Time had 
left, 
Like broken hearts of impotent despair, 
On Asiatic deserts wide and bare. 
The searchers found when they had keenly cleft 
The dross of ages, sculptures strong and deft, 

Wherein Assyrian dreams from stones still stare, 
And tear-phials iridescent for the fair 
Forgotten Gods of worshippers bereft. 
Should Beauty's Lady search my life, forgot 
As quite as Sargon's cities by the mass. 
Would she find underneath the peasant grass 
A few frail humble deeds and, 'neath a blot 

Of blood, pale dreams of Freedom faintly drawn 
Around a heart with her face stamped thereon? 



B EA UT Y' S LA D Y 61 



MORNING 



A HUSH, as though Life held its breath, a red 
Quick sudden palpitating flame, a brand 
Flung headlong through the darkness, a 
command 
For Dreams to wing their way unto the dead, 
And then the finger-tips of Dawn are spread 
In benediction o'er the list'ning land. 
And underneath its tremulous white hand 
The laughing Sun shakes loose his golden head. 
A rush of wings upon the perfumed air, 

A burst of song from jubilant blithe birds, 
A silver whisper of immortal words 
As Nature kneels in thanksgiving and prayer, 
And Beauty's Lady lifts her love-lit eyes 
To shed on Earth the light of Paradise. 



62 BEA UT Y' S LA D Y 



NOON 

A PULSE of Silence in the thunder roar 
Of volumed sound from rushing waters 
vast, 
Soft scented silence in the vales o'ercast 

By brooding hills, that watch the eagles soar 

In effortless abandon at the core 

Of silence deep within the viewless blast. 
Primeval silence in dark shadows massed, 

And silence in the Sun's full-orbed outpour. 

And underneath a veil of shimmering haze 

With mirth and might and melody bedight, 
And on her face the glow of Wisdom's light. 

Enthroned in golden glory beyond praise, 
Lo! Beauty's Lady, radiantly calm, 
The still small voice in Nature's silent psalm. 



BEA UTY' S LA D Y 63 



MIDNIGHT 

WHITE fields of lilies stretching to the west, 
Wind swept and waving on their stately 
stems, 
White draperies of cloud with silver hems 

The banished gods trail over the blue breast 

Of heaven, white lipped moaning seas in quest 
Of peace, white scintillating starry gems 
Dropped from the rebel angel's diadems, 

White moon-light over all with awe oppressed. 

And in the centre, blending all to one 

Great living word of Light — the sound whereof — 
Another name for God, for God is Love, — 

Fills all things full of meaning dreamed or done, 
Stands Beauty's Lady, of them yet apart, 
The blush of Morning at the Midnight's heart. 



64 BEAUTY'S LADY 



SHADOWS 

^^HADOWS like cyphers brand her brows most 
^\ wise; 

^^ Shadows upon her temples like dim pools 

Of peaceful rest, wherein the glad blood cools 
Its longings; shadows trembling with surprise, 
Like falling drops of song from Paradise, 

Around her mouth — that speaks the word that 
rules 

The life of him the most blessed of God's fools — 
And shadows, dusky dream-moths, round her eyes. 
Then over all, a shadow of deep awe 

And calm abiding full-fledged wonderment, 

As though to her the Living One had bent 
And whispered the love secret of His law; 

These are the Shadows in My Lady's face. 

The Lights — ah! words could never dimly trace. 



BEA UTY' S LA D Y 65 



WHISPERS 



WHISPERS among the little flirting leaves; 
Whispers as gloaming trails across the 
grass ; 

Illumined whispers as the fire flies pass; 

Aeolian harps of moonbeams one conceives 

Make whisp'ring music, for no shadow grieves 
But dances lightly with a drinking glass 
Brimful of dew, and to recall what was 

The sea-shells whisper sighs old ocean heaves. 

Like to a sweet warm breath, strange whispers cling 
Around my heart of Immortality 
To-night, when with the minds' eye, I can see 

The lily light to me of everything. 

Dear Beauty's Lady sent to tempt the soul, 
Melodious whisper of God's perfect whole. 



66 BEAUTY'S LADY 



A DREAM 

NAY, but remembering I faint! I swoon! 
The eyes like mem'ries of the sea sun kissed, 
The marble brow crowned with a dusky 
twist 
Of hair coiled down to rest like some dream tune, 
The mouth — Love's Majesty describe as soon — 
The supple limbs, like liquid amethyst. 
Draped in diaphanous wan woven mist 
Clasped by the crescent of a crystal moon. 
So in my sleep she seemed to lean to me, 

Until her breath my eyelids filtered through 
And filled my eyes with warm translucent dew 
From God's green blossom of Virginity — 

Thereat I woke and smothered down a sigh 
And cried — no! She may hear that by and by. 



BEA UT Y' S LA D Y 67 



THE TORNADO'S HEART 

INTO his inmost heart a Zephyr crept, 
The heart of a Tornado, nor felt she 
One whit of fear, nay rather felt she free, 
In free-will's sense to God's will, on she swept 
O'er death and desolation, as he leapt 
O'er lands and landmarks of futility 
And ploughed up furrows in the virgin sea 
And dashed defiance at the stars that kept 
Unmoved their calm. When his wild strength was 
gone, 
Titanic effort grappling with despair — 
The opening of new fields of living^air 
For neighbor Nature in her robes of dawn — 

Why then, the Zephyr gently whispered — " Rest, " 
And laid his worked-out heart upon her breast. 



68 BEA UTV S LAD Y 



SUMMER 



ABROAD smile from the heaven's placid face 
Falls on the full blown roses; lilies nod 
In drowsy day-dreams to the velvet shod 
Quiescent Hours that loiter for a space 
Across the perfume-laden resting place 

Of Nature, where knee-deep in fllow'ring sod 
She hums unbonneted her songs to God, 
Beneath the green flag of harmonious Grace. 
Then in my heart a sense of boundless power 
Broods o'er a vision of supreme delight, 
Nestled within a rainbow-woven bower. 

And yearns to gather all its unknown might 
Into one tender, passionate sweet 
White deed of love to lay at Beauty's feet. 



B EA UT Y' S LA D Y 69 



IN THE WOODS 

DAPPLED with leafy shadows, fawn-like 
Dreams 
Roam o'er the dim horizon of her mind, 
Save now and then one lingereth behind, 
To quench its thirst within the limpid streams 
Of light from her pure eyes. Mirth's sparkling beams 
The spell of rime-frost from her brow unbind 
For wild-bloom thoughts to blush there; Love's 
lips wind 
The horn of Hope her soul inspired it seems. 
Where'er she goes her fragrant presence has 

A dignity that makes base things depart. 
For lisping leaves that saw Diana pass 

Have whispered secrets to her fearless heart; 
Queen of Life's forest, careless of mishap, 
Where mysteries like branches overlap. 



70 BEA UTY' S LA D Y 



TOGETHER 



TWO stars in Space's opposite extremes, 
One pale as powdered snow on violet, 
One bright as blood on shining steel new 
wet, 
Move through a sky of blue ethereal dreams 
Along their fate-swept orbits, crossed by gleams 
Of other yearning stars no doubt, and yet 
Fulfilling silently the word Kismet, 
To meet and mingle into one their beams. 
And in the rapture of their mutual kiss, 

Coequals crowned with consummation's calm, 
Light shall mysteriously become a psalm 
Of infinitely sweet abounding bliss. 

Love's lost chord — found shall ring across the 

sky 
Struck from the mystic diphthong — You and L 



BEAUTY'S LADY 71 



FOREVER 



TWO disembodied spirits pure and clear, 
Met in the ether atmosphere of There, 
Surpassing Beauty's dream of women fair 
Was one, once known on earth as Beauty's Queen, 
The other was the contrast seen between 

Beauty and rugged Strength, but why compare 
Them, she had strength of purpose and to spare, 
Enough! he humbly wore an honest mien. 
Down, bending gently as a zephyr might, 

She leaned her head and smiling asked of him, — 
And as she spoke it seemed the stars grew dim, — 
"Do you remember what you said last night?" 

"Oh yes," he answered and rememb'ring sighed, 
" I love you, love you, love you; then I died." 



72 BEA UT Y' S LA D Y 



PROSPECT 



IS SHE not free and fearless, she to whom 
My soul leaps forth and gives the welcome 
sign, 

Come as a guest into this heart of mine. 
Come with the gladness of the Spring's full bloom, 
Come in the garb of Beauty's fairy loom 

To rule with Love, and point me to the shrine 

Of Truth, and bring the blessed bread and wine 
Of Life, and claim me as her spirit's groom? 
Shall I not grow complete and perfected 

Within the sunshine of her peerless eyes? 

Shall I not know the calm of Paradise 
Within the shadow of her thoughtful head? 

Shall not my being become deep and broad 

Beside this mystic messenger of God? 



BEA UT Y' S LA D Y 73 



MY AMBITION 



THE end of my ambition is but this — 
To be in body, mind, and soul alway 
A humble, earnest worker, deed and say 
And thought devoted to the crowning bliss 
Of brotherhood in Beauty, nor amiss 

Take aught that falls, but strenuously pray 
That from that end my feet may never stray 
Nor my full lips be turned from Duty's Kiss. 
And after many a failure and mishap 

After the joybells of successful hours, 
In the sweet aftercalm of well used powers, 
To lay my head at last in her pure lap, 

And feel the brooding blessing of the eyes 
Of Beauty's Lady on my calm soul lies. 



74 BEAUTY'S LADY 



A GLAD DAY 

COME, come my soul, now let us forth and leap, 
Dance, swing out hand in hand across the 
grass, 

Skim o'er the moor-lake with its molten mass 
Of water-lilies like star songs asleep, 
Climb, scramble up the cliffs that safely keep 

The voice of love-lorn Echo; on we pass 

The waterfall like liquid braided glass, 
And breast the mountains where the old gods weep. 
Up, up, we strive to gain their exiled place — 

Shall not our tears, to rainbow raiment wove. 

Drape their cold limbs with iridescent Love 
And bathe the lines of sorrow from each face? — 

Now! now we join the highest! Shout aloud! 

Jump if you will into yon opal cloud! 



BEAUTY'S LADY 75 



REPOSE 



CALM, wide-winged, smiling Peace with dream- 
ing eyes 
Sits in the branches of the tree of Life, 
Hushed is the battle's shrill far-reaching fife, 
Rest like dew-water on my spirit lies, 
For clearly, oh, most clearly it espies 

Far, far beyond rememberance of strife. 
The holy couch of Love with gladness rife 
And burdened with the pearl of Paradise. 
High Hopes like stars shine in the bending arch 
Of fathomless, undimmed Infinity, 
And through the air a clear call comes to me, 
"Onward and upward to fulfillment march"; 
A call that makes the man in me rejoice, 
As somehow Beauty's Lady were a voice. 



76 BEAUTY'S LADY 



A DIVINE COMEDY 

WHEN Gloaming climbs the hills to watch the 
sun Sail off into the downy golden west, 
When friendly birds from neighboring 
nest to nest 
In twitt'ring gossip tell what has been done, 
When silently above come one by one 

The stars like Heavenly music's notes of rest, 
Or trickling tears of light shed on the breast 
Of Night, stern Nature's consecrated nun, 
My wayward spirit finds complete repose 

Beside the smiling soul that wears a crown 
Of dew-gemmed Beauty, at her feet it throws 

The burden of its dreamings lightly down, 
And in emancipated thought can see 
Within Creation's drama — Harmony. 



B EA UT ¥• S LA D Y 77 



EVEN SO 

BECAUSE her lips have tasted the dank foam 
That crowns the bitter cup of blood red pain, 
Because alone in travail she has lain 
With sorrow till the stars pierced heaven's dome, 
Because her feet have bled with those that roam 
Along the flinty path to spirit gain. 
Because come weal or woe she still was fain 
To make in Truth her everlasting home, 
I find in her a living word of Hope, 

I find in her a pulse of soulful power, 
I find in her the perfume of Life's flower, 
I love her with my whole soul's utmost scope, 
I stand erect and glad thanksgiving give 
To God, and pray, as she so I may live. 



78 B EA UT y S LA D Y 



COMFORT 



THE odor of flower censers swung in May, 
Hangs in the hush of harmony that dwells 
Around my Lady, Queen of Asphodels, 
Crowning the garden that pure souls array; 
Her eyes, the tenderness of yesterday 

Hold in their liquid depths, and sea swung bells 
Ring in her voice that fearlessly foretells 
The future rising through a golden spray. 
The sense of human kindness in her touch 

Melts the hard morsel of the miser Time, 
And somehow lifts my heart up into such 

Unspeakable delight, it hears the chime 
Of Heaven's min'ster ring the welcome hour 
When rest shall fall like dew upon a flower. 



BEAUTY'SLADY 79 



AUTUMN 



A FARAWAY look in the eyes of day, 
The muscles of the sturdy earth stand out 
In strong relief, and scattered round about 
Belated flowers recall the year's first gay, 
Glad tidings; Nature watches them at play 

From underneath her brows of conquered doubt, 
Forgetting naught, she smiles to see them pout 
And wither as she stores her wealth away. 
Then clinging feelings, keen and kin to pain, 

Of loneliness in Freedom, send a thrill 
Through the ripe vigour of my hoarding brain 

Counting its knowledge o'er. Ah! all is chili 
Save thoughts of Beauty's Lady where she seems 
The harvest-moon in my midnight of dreams. 



80 BEA UT Y' S LA D Y 



IMPRESSIONS 

A BLUR of pain, like autumn leaves awhirl 
Around a bare tree stretching bony hands 
Into the empty air; a flash of wands, 
Like rainbows waved by Hope before the churl 
Despair; gray ghosts of Dreams that dumbly furl 
The sails of Love shipwrecked upon the Sands 
Of Time, and silently coil up black strands 
Of hair that once adorned a mermaid girl ; 
And to the sense beyond the senses ken, 
A blaze of pleasure in a sky of peace 
Flashing from out a central sun; surcease 
Of time and space; and far from men 

An opal void o'er which my soul has leapt 
To — Stop! see tears, for joy my soul has wept. 



BEAUTY'S LADY 81 



JUST AN IDEA 

I AM possessed by an Idea now, 
My every deed must meet approval 
From her smile within the dream-lit hall 
Of Faith, where soul to soul exchanges vow 
Of fealty, and kiss lips, eyelids, and brow 
As symbol of the Cross on which we call 
To help us, guide us, lift us when we fall, 
And lead us over Sin's absorbing slough. 
Have I not sung her perfect body, yea 

And prayed within the shadow of her soul. 
Climbed with her mind in loving-sweet control 
Up the green shaded Academus' way, 

Been blessed beholding Duty lay his lips 
On Beauty's stainless shining finger tips. 



82 BEAUTY'S LADY 



FORCED JOY 

FORTH through the night I force my ebon way 
With close-clenched brows, and firm-set 
peering eyes, 
Alone with my Idea, pearl and prize 
I captured in the thickest of the fray, 
And hold against my heart fronting dismay, 
And doubt, and Death, that vainly tries 
To take her from me to some Paradise 
Of equable tame uneventful day — 
Bah ! while a conscious entity am I 

We never shall be severed or apart! 
Can I not feel her lips upon my heart 
Melting its strain with dewy sympathy? 
God, you alone I fear, but surely you 
Sent her to guide me to the good and true. 



BEA UTY' S LA D Y 83 



DISTRAUGHT 



UNTIE the knot that strangles my poor brain 
And give it breath but for a brief heart's 
beat, 

Can you not feel its cold lips on your feet 
Chilling their marble whiteness with its pain? 
Is not my body powdered now to grain 

And in Fate's whirlwind scattered now complete? 

Does not my soul like filmy incense sweet 
Rise from your altar where my peace was slain? — 
Yet you could gather them and make me whole, 

Make my great longings in fulfillment cease. 

Kiss me from burning passion into peace, 
Give me again a body, mind, and soul. 

If this must never be, why teach me then 

To find the power to humbly say — Amen. 



84 BEA UT Y' S LA D Y 



A SAD DAY 

OH HAGAR, mother, great broad -bosomed Sea, 
With hard tongue rattling in a mouth 
parched dry. 
And pinched lips puckered in a last long sigh, 

I throw myself on your maternity — 

I, I your Ishmael, take me, let me be 

Rocked into rest with your old lullaby. 
But first before it break just let me cry 

My heart out as your arms encompass me. 

God loved you once before I w^s begot, — 

Hush! hush! I feel your deep unuttered moan — 
Do with me what you will, I am your own, 

Hide me away in some unfathomed spot, 
I being gone, wiped out of everything. 
The stars again to you of Love may sing. 



BEAUTY'SLADY 85 



A BARBARIAN 

LEAVE me alone! take off your clinging hands, 
For God's sake let me see no more of you, 
Since I must never know you through and 
through. 
Leave me alone with Destiny's commands, 
Trifle not with a soul that understands 

Love's lips are balmy with the honeyed dew 
Of dreams, Love's eyes swim in the misty blue 
Of dawn, lest the untamed in me break bands 
Of flimsy laws men made for women's use. 

The wild untamed Barbarian rise in might, 
Take you and fly with you into the night, 
And fling defiance at whoe'er pursues, 

Claim you, possess you whate'er might befall. 
Have you, and hold you — own you — all in all. 



86 BEAUTY'S LADY 



A CASTAWAY 

FATE with a breath blew out the blazing Sun, 
And darkness swallowed up Desire's delight, 
Cast a cold shroud across the face of Right, 
And snapped the silver chords of Hope fine spun 
From the pure efforts of Life new begun. — 
Then up against the bars of dismal night 
A Spirit's poor frayed wings beat their vain might 
Waiting to hear some Dawn say, "It is done." 
Now it but feels, if numbness so be named. 
The deep inscrutable decrees of Fate, 
Called "Nevermore," "It might-have-been," 
"Too late," 
And wonders why so frail a thing was maimed 

And^left to wander with the blind child Faith 
Down through the broken road that leads to 
Death. 



BEAUTY'SLADY 87 



AS YE SOW 



TOO long, too long have foolish hopes and fears 
Dashed on my soul the flush and chill of 
pain, 
Too long its energies with might and main 

Have fought with Shadows, watered dusty years 

With evanescent and unfruitful tears. 

Chewed empty husks of doubtful doubt, be fain 
To follow Will-o'-Wisps across the plain 

Of pathless longings where no Love appears. 

E'en now as by a wayside Cross I kneel, 

My prayer for peace falls back upon my face, 
And on my bruised lips bitten blood marks trace 

The only answer to my last appeal — 
I realize that to my soul has come 
A white abiding Sorrow blind and dumb. 



88 BEAUTY'S LADY 



A LONG JOURNEY 

WE wandered down from where the old gods 
dwell, 
Psyche and I, we started in the gray 
D*m misty dawn and slowly groped our way 
Down through the clouds and where their Shadows 

fell, 
Each asked the other, if it knew, to tell 

What lay below, and whither would we stray, 
And dumbly strove to fashion words to pray, 
It might not be to everlasting Hell, 
Then suddenly I felt I was alone, 

Psyche had left me somewhere, loveless, dead 
To every joy, and disinherited 
Of morning on the mountain-top, then thrown 
Headlong into the hungry calling sea. 
Bruised, maimed, but fearless once again and 
free. 



BEAUTY'S LADY 89 



A BOUQUET 

I PLUCKED a bunch of song-buds soft and true, 
From out the gracious garden of her Soul, 
Faint dawn-eyed dreamers nodding 'neath the 
knoll 
Of wisdom, where the noble flowers grew 
With crimson blood-stains on a flaming hue, 

Pansies, then valley-lilies round the whole, — 
White whispers of eternity that stole 
From God and blossomed in my Lady's view. 
Ere they could wither in the grasp of hot 

Tense Passion treading down rebellious fears, 
I watered them with pure and holy tears. 
And kneeling in an unfrequented spot 

I laid my bunch of song-buds bound in Truth 
Beside the dead Hope of my vanished youth. 



90 BEA UT ¥' 5 LA D Y 



THE FOUNDLING 



A LAST good-bye then to my foundling dead, 
A last embracing look before it goes 
Into the land of mist no morning knows, 
Ta'en from my heart that was its cradle-bed, 
Poor, fair, frail weakling with the glad proud head. 
The little placid breasts like polar snows, 
The tender clinging hands that hold a rose 
Above the thorn-prick whence its life-blood sped. 
The pale white lips I kiss, flower-petal ears, 

The dimmed wide open eyes that coldly stare. 
The face of Beauty's Lady prisoned there — 
Ah God! no more! good-bye! for wet with tears 
The silver-sandalled Dawn on tip-toe creeps 
Into the chamber where my dead Hope sleeps. 



BEAUTY'S LADY 91 



A GHOST 



THE ghost of me lies underneath the lids 
Of Eyes, that strange to say once came to 
mine 
Like frightened Faith in search of its lost Shrine, 

And dropped by chance some purple red orchids 

Of Thought my soul picked up — what God forbids 

The poor ghost dreaming o'er these flowers divine 
Dew-drenched with memory's alluring wine, 

And hearing Fancies chirp like katydids — 

Too weak It was for anyone to miss 

Its presence or to note its simple death, 
It lies forgotten with the moment's breath 

That slew it with the phantom of a kiss, 

Dead! laid with unremembered things away 
Shall it not know a resurrection day? 



92 BEAUTY'S LADY 



SHIPS 

BECAUSE my ship has sailed far distant seas, 
And borne the stress and storm of gale and 
blast, 
With tattered sails and grim aspiring mast 
Rode where the midnight sun but shines to freeze, 
Trailed through the calms of the Antipodes, 

Weathered the waves of tropic passions, past 
The tempting whirlpools, banks of doubt-mist 
vast, 
Been moored by galling chains to alien quays; 
Because of this, although it still is staunch, 

Nor seeks to anchor till its haven's won, 
It is forbid convoy pure Beauty's launch 

That sails off bravely in the rising Sun, 
They speak each other and these greetings send, 
"God speed you ever," "All's well my good friend." 



BEA UTY' S LA D Y 93 



REMEMBRANCE 



LIKE supplicating drowned hands through the 
haze 
The branches stretch out, and the Dusk 
begins 
To usher in a troop of might-have-beens; 
Like tawdry ghosts of spendthrift summer days 
Chrysanthemums now haunt the wind-swept ways 
Where dead leaves huddle like affrighted Sins; 
And through the unfrequented outs and ins 
Of Mem'ry my soul roams as in a maze, 
Till suddenly it stays its wandering, 

And sees great throngs of men unconsciously 
Dividing, so that all unhindered she 
May pass, my Lady of the perfect Spring — 
Thereat my soul looks up, and lo! on high 
The flowers of that Spring blossom in the sky. 



94 B EA UT Y' S LA D Y 



A POOR PLAYER 



FRAMED in a rainbow arch proscenium, 
A Spring set, on the world's stage was 
arrayed, 
And "Beauty and the Beast" was duly played 

By her called Lady Soullight and by some 

Poor player touching whose name Fame is dumb. 
Past praise she acted, word and look conveyed 
Divinely Love triumphant in a Maid, 

But him the audience wished in Kingdom Come. 

So far so good, but when the play was done 
The Lady living close to Nature's heart 
Forgot, as well she should, the play and part 

And bathed her Soul within the rising Sun; 

But do you know, the Player dreams on, he 
Is loved by Beauty through Eternity! 



BEAUTY'S LADY 95 



WINTER 



A SMILING calm conviction in the look 
The Skies send down so tenderly to bless 
The puckered Earth, who like a prophetess 
Behind the shriveled parchment of her book 
Is hidden and gives forth no sign to hook 

A hope on; yet great Nature none the less, 
Wrapped in a spotless warm white downy dress, 
Cracks many a crisp bright joke by knoll and nook. 
Then from my soul where thoughts like snowflakes fall 

Dreamily downward from a star-lit past, 
A prayer is sent up to the Heart of All, 

That when the veil is lifted up at last, 
Within His rest abiding, I shall see 
Sweet Beauty's Lady through Eternity. 



96 BEAUTY'S LADY 



MIRAGE 



THE haunting fragrance of her fragile hands, 
Enchantingly astray across my brow 
And eyelids, turns my living longing now 
Back to the mound where sadly memory stands 
And drops a tear on them in cere cloth bands, 
A pallid Dream and piteous unvoiced Vow, 
Together buried. Ah my God! tell how 
To blind that longing with the burning sands 
Of Time, for even now lark-like on wing 
It soars above the simoon's upper edge 

And sees, or is it mirage, a green hedge 
Ablaze with little poems of the Spring, 

And in its shadow Beauty's Lady bends 
To listen to the song of love it sends. 



BEAUTY'S LADY 97 



THE VERDICT 



ONCE in my life I strove to let one know 
My life entirely, everything that in 
Me was, thought, word and deed, shame, 
sorrow, sin. 
Fall, falterings in the way I fain would go 
Toward my Ideal, sheltering as snow, 

Hopes chilled to death by kisses from the thin 
Pale lips of Fear, Love lost amid the din 
Of homeless hate, chance-driven to and fro. 
And never less my littleness appeared 

Than in that effort is my one hope now, 
I hope I failed to show quite truly how 
Just this or that within my path was cleared, 
For having heard all I in truth could say, 
"Coward," said the list'ner and then turned 
away. 



98 BEAUTY'S LADY 



A PASSING WORD 

FROM out the far off busy bright-faced world 
I hear her say: "What are you thinking of 
Tonight?" she who to me is up above 
The highest peaks round which Fame's clouds are 

curled, 
Cold peaks from which my thoughts were one day 
hurled, 
I hear the voice of that adored Dream-Dove 
That fluttered in the air when valiant Love 
Over my soul its banner bright unfurled. 
What am I thinking? nothing! Heart-of-joy! 

But hearing mem'ry from her warm nest sing 
A carol of the green and gold robed Spring, 
When I forgot I was no more a boy, 

When gladness, life, and hope were in the air, 
And Beauty's Lady looked from everywhere. 



B EA U T Y' S LA D Y 99 



A LAST WORD 



ALONE! yes horribly alone tonight, 
My aching thoughts run out to where 
^ you are 

Off in an alien atmosphere afar 
Beyond the senses' touch or ear or sight, 
But my lone soul cries out with all its might, 

"Let no misfortune her white beauty mar"; 

And that for you Love's gate may stand ajar. 
It drinks the dipper full of pure starlight — 
Out of your lips that petal-like enclose 

The flaming passion of divine desire, 

Let there come forth the living word of fire 
That makes us feel what only Goodness knows, 

That makes us think beyond Life's weary plight 

May be another world that sets this right. 



100 BEA UTY' S LAD Y 



A FOOT NOTE 

LET no one think I love her less because 
She failed to find in me the love she sought, 
No! whate'er else of me there may be 
thought, 
My love has never faltered, though full pause 
She put to my heart's singing — Broken laws 

Are surely paid for when true wisdom's bought, 
So why then should she tie a lovers' knot 
In my uneven life's thread full of flaws? 
Still thinking of her I feel Spring's caress, 

I work and wait and pray to nobly strive, 
And wish with all my soul that she may thrive 
Upon the sunny slope of Happiness. 

I may be only dust, but planted there 
The thought of her is like a blossom rare. 



Songs and Ballads 



What shall be said of these few songs of mine? 
Shall they be likened unto scentless weeds, 
That grew within the garden land of Thought, 
All blossomless, nor in their veins the wine 

Of dreams, that quaffed, stirs up to noble deeds. 

Whereby mankind to Beauty's shrine is brought? 
Even so; yet for these weeds some use may be. 
Some use, at last, in thrifty Nature's way — 
Who portions out the dark and daylight hours — 
Within her crucible of silence, she 
May crush them through the changes of decay. 
To feed at last the roots of fragrant flowers. 



SONGS AND BALLADS 



A LITTLE SONG 



^^^^^^H Lady Bird! Ah Lady Bird! 
Your lips let slip a little word, 
That brought the music of the spheres 
Within the compass of my ears, 
And set the deathless boy in me 
From care and tribulation free 

To roam the blue fields of the sky, 

And with a liberated eye 

The joy of life to comprehend: 

Have you not said, you are my friend? 




103 



104 SONGS AND BALLADS 



RECOGNITION 

YOU sprang into my life like some lost Splendor, 
My spirit knew in far off Grecian days, 
Now what you will, you may do mar or mend, or 
With holy passion kindle to a blaze 
My heart impatient of metallic ways. 

You may consume me quite to dust and ashes 
The wind to blow wherever it may list. 
Or with the splendid coruscating flashes 
Of matchless eyes dispel the subtle mist 
That veils the Duty waiting to be kissed. 

At least for one brief moment let me capture 
The breathing Visions that your presence brings, 
In triumph rushing on with torrent rapture 
A chorus of bright Bacchanalian Springs, 
Careering wildly on the wind's warm wings. 

I know in some far life our minds were gladdened 

By one Ideal that possessed them quite, 

And then to realize it parted saddened, 

The one to left, the other to the right 

Till now we meet like moonlight and midnight. 

How is it I was conscious of your coming 
If as men said the good in me went out, 
Say, is it only dreams that now are humming 
A strange fantastic melody about 
The perfect Love that casteth out all doubt? 



SONGS AND BALLADS 105 

A feeble mortal I may be, Fate driven, 
Or on Life's checkered board the merest pawn, 
A pigmy where a Titan would be riven. 
But from my soul I pray I still dream on. 
If dreaming so I see through you the Dawn. 

The dawn of my desires that through the ages 
Have culminated into this, that when 
God stanps Tranquility on Time's green pages 
The U in it be You, the I be I, and then 
No parting through eternity again. 

So Lady born of earth and sky and ocean, 
Incarnate Beauty with the Truth aglow. 
Accept the undivided pure devotion 
Of one who loved you many lives ago, 
Of one who loves you now, oh ! loves you so. 



LOVE'S COMING 

WHEN first through silence sound was heard. 
And Life began to smile, 
On wings of light a little word, 
When first through silence sound was heard, 
Came fluttering earthward like a bird. 

To rule and reconcile; 
When first through silence sound was heard. 
And Life began to smile. 



106 SONGS AND BALLADS 



A SONG FOR THE CHILDREN 

HARK! in the East how the silence is broken, 
Down from the gates of the Night drops the 
bar, 
Lo! the wind shakes, from the Dawn's trailing garments 

Gold flakes of glory, like seeds of a star. 
Over the West hang the curtains of darkness, 

Solemnly screening the sphinx-face of Fate, 
'Twixt Dusk and Dawn, as between two Eternals, 
Here for a space we stand hopeful, elate. 

Visions of Love, crowned with lotus and laurel, 

Vanish as mist in the ambient air, 
Up from the earth there ascends sound and odor. 

Like a pure incense-winged passionate prayer. 
Legends and lore, that Immortals have chanted, 

Lift up our minds to unspeakable joy, 
While to the sense, that is over the senses. 

Whispers the voice of The Carpenter Boy. 

Thrilled through and through with desire to be hearing 

Duty's divine undeniable call, 
Breathless we wait, and with wonder and worship. 

Know we are part of the Infinite All. 
But hold, O heart! o'er the wide fields of Heaven, 

From East to West morning's light is unfurled, 
Shout, shout aloud, then, a full-throated pean, 

"God's in His Heaven, all's well with the world." 



SONGS AND BALLAD S 107 



HUSH! 

/^LUMBER softly babe upon my breast, 
^V Shadows beckon all the world to rest, 
^-^ Day is dreaming in the arms of Night, 
Stars are watching o'er it with delight. 

Hush! love's watch I will keep, 
Hush-a-bye baby, sleep. 

Pillowed softly on the soul of Peace, 
You shall dream of lands where sorrows cease, 
Where Love lingers clothed in shining youth, 
Christ has told us is the garb of Truth. 

Hush! love's watch I will keep, 
Hush-a-bye baby, sleep. 

Folded softly in a perfect calm. 
Rest till morning, my heart's own love-lamb, 
When Dawn herald's up the heavens run. 
Wake and with them hail the rising Sun. 
Hush! love's watch I will keep, 
Hush-a-bye baby, sleep. 



108 SONGS AND BALLADS 



REST THEE 

^^LUMBER my babe and rest thee awhile, 
^^ Night is for dreams and Day is for toil; 
^^ Tomorrow thou wilt hear the birds sinj 

Their welcome to the new-born day, 
Tonight the peace that love and faith bring 
Will guard and keep thee safe I pray; 
Slumber, slumber, and troubles fly away. 
Slumber, slumber, until the dawn of day. 

Slumber my babe and rest thee awhile, 
Night is for dreams and Day is for toil ; 
Tomorrow dance within the sunlight 
That pours from out the heavens above. 
But through the watches of this calm night. 
Lie cradled, babe, within my love; 
Slumber, slumber, and toubles fly away, 
Slumber, slumber, until the dawn of day. 



A THOUGHT 

WHEN we dream that we dream, cometh dawn, 
When we doubt that we doubt, cometh death, 
When we hope that we hope, dusk is on, 
When we fear only fear, we draw breath. 



SONGS AND BALLADS 109 



HEIGH-HO 

A DREAM built a nest en a branch of Desire, 
(Heigh-Ho for Dream and Desire) 
And Life over-head was a white ball of fire 
(Heigh-Ho for Dream and Desire) 
It sang to a brood of bright Fancies it hatched, 
And Love there with Love was so perfectly matched, 
My Heart stood beneath them in silence and watched, 
(Heigh-Ho for Dream and Desire). 

My Heart full of Hope stretched itself in the shade, 

(Heigh-Ho for Heart and for Hope) 
It slept on a cushion that melody made, 

(Heigh-Ho for Heart and for Hope). 
But lo! when it woke there came tears to its eyes. 
So slow was the Sun in the east to arise. 
So quick to return to its own Paradise, 

(Heigh-Ho for Heart and for Hope.) 

The Birds had all fled and the thin branch was bare, 

(Heigh-Ho for Birds and for Branch) 
The nest, though disheveled, was hanging still there, 

(Heigh-Ho for Birds and for Branch). 

A dull leaden cloud held its station above, 

And soft, fleecy, fluttering feathers thereof 

Were draping my heart in a white shroud of Love, 

(Heigh-Ho for Birds and for Branch). 



110 SONGS AND BALLADS 



A SONG 

ACROSS the rainbow bridge of dreams, 
My Lady went a-Maying, 
^ And left me on the hither side 
Among the graves of hopes that died 

And wild desires still baying 
The moon of Memory's pale beams. 

Across the crystal stream of tears, 

My Lady's voice is ringing, 
And through the dark aisles of my mind 
An echo answers, like a blind 

Canary sadly singing 
Remembrance of the sunlit years. 



MY LADY 

^^WEETER than music of mermaids at midnight, 
^\ Chanting their spells to the soul of the sea, 
^-^ Sweeter than welcome of wee birds to daylight, 
Is your voice to me. 

Fairer than Spring's coy glance to the woodlands, 

Dimpling with green all the scenes of the lea. 
Fairer than froth of the sea to the gray sands. 
Is your face to me. 

Symbol and sign of the world's fairest features, 

Tender as Jesu to Humanity, 
Awful as God is to all of his creatures. 
Are you, you, to me. 



SONGS AND BALLADS 111 



TO BEAUTY 

AH, come to us! Ah, come to us! 
We listen, be not dumb to us, 
" Imbue us with ambitions that Aspasia's lover 

knew, 
And having fed our eyes upon 
The virgin glory of the Dawn, 
Oh, fire us with a passion for the simple strong and true! 

Yea, teach us how to speed the plan 

Of Brotherhood 'twixt man and man, 
And strengthen us against all forms of ugliness to war, 

Oh, make our words and works to rhyme. 

And help our straying feet to climb 
Away up to the mountain tops, where God and quiet 
are. 



A LITTLE WHISPER 

HAVE you heard a little whisper 
That is running through the air, 
Like a baby's laughing gurgle 
Or the Dawn's immortal prayer? 
It is breaking like the wavelets 

Of a blue Homeric sea 
On the lava of volcanic 

Hearts, and, who knows, it may be 
Just a dream of God made audible 

For Nature's lips to sing, 
And awaken us and all things 

To the Beauty of the Spring. 



112 SONGS AND BALLADS 



THE LAST HOPE 

BY the tears and triumphs 
That the past has put upon us, 
By the songs and sorrows 
We hold sacred from that trail, 
By the Hope of Peace that joined 

And heart to heart has drawn us. 
Still we cannot but believe 

That Beauty must prevail. 

Lift your voice in song again 

The Future comes to meet us. 
With its swinging choruses 

Of Joy beyond our ken. 
Let your broken heart be healed, 

The God of Love shall greet us, 
With full recognition 

Through the smiling eyes of men. 



A 



LOVE 

GLOWING moment hung 'twixt two Eternities; 
A finger-post that points to Life's increase; 
A winning smile upon the lips of Truth it is; 
A light that leads up to the paths of Peace. 



SONGS AND BALLADS 113 



A PAGAN LILT 

WHERE is any Naiad now 
Sunny eyes and snowy brow 
Where is Pan? 
Lo! a tear-stained Nazarene, 
Thorn-crowned has come between 
Them and Man. 

Where is any son of mirth 

That sent songs up from the earth 

To the Skies? 
Lo! the Sun of Righteousness 
Dims and leaveth lustreless 

Both his eyes. 

Where is Venus all ablaze 

With Love's passion that to praise 

Made men groan? 
Lo! a Virgin without sin 
Tells her what she might-have-been 

Had she known. 



LIFE 

A SLEEPING, a waking, 
A giving, a taking, 
A sigh and a sigh with a smile in between, 
A groping, a quaking, 
A strife, a forsaking, 
Then room for another to scatter and glean. 



114 SONGS AND BALLADS 



A LOVE SONG 

THERE is no greater honor could befall me 
Than having brought a smile to her dear eyes, 
There is no wealth the world could shower upon 
me 
That I, compared to her kind word, would prize. 

I wonder if the measure of my longing 

To be her servant only, she can know. 

Or if she knew, I wonder, would she sometimes 

On me a glance of tenderness bestow? 

My heart is like a wayward rose that clambers 
All night up to the silver gates of Dawn; 
Or rather like a pebble by the seashore 
The Sun has glorified by shining on. 



H 



A TOAST 

ERE'S to the Love that lives 

In despite of the fears of Hell, 
Here's to the hand that gives 

From a heart that forgives as well. 



Here's to your rising star, 

And your soul that through Faith endures, 
Here's to the best you are 

And the best that can be, be yours. 

Here's to the Truth you seem 

And the Truth that I fain would be, 

Here's to the smiling Dream 
We shall follow eternally. 



SONGS AND BALLADS 115 



A DUET 

5 AY what can fairer be, my lass, 
Oh, what can fairer be. 
Than winds among the bending grass, 
A-tripping, lingering, rustling pass. 
To dance wi' waves at sea?" 

"Oh, think thee it is fairer, lad, 

Say can it fairer be. 
Than toddling bairnies wi' their dad, 
A-making hearts and homes more glad, 

Wi' heaven's purity?" 

"Oh, I will stay at home, my lass. 

Stay at home with thee." 
"Lad, then we shall never part. 
For my home shall be your heart, 

'Till Eternity." 



TWO SONGS 

AMBITION sang loud in the morning 
A song to the music of strife, 
L It bade me be strong in the battle. 
That men in their weakness call Life. 

But Peace lilted low in the gloaming, 
When dew and the long shadows fell, 
It bade my tired heart lean on Patience 
And whispered oft, "Friend, all is well." 



116 SONGS AND BALLADS 



UNLESS 

OLOVE! O Love! can'st thou not see, 
My heart for thee now breaks, 
By day and night it thinks of thee, 
All other thought forsakes; 
My heart that as a shield would guard 

Thy heart from every foe, 
My heart that from all hope is barred, 
Unless it as a shield may guard 
Thy heart from every foe. 

O Love! O Love! could'st thou but know. 

My life is all thine own. 
Thou would'st not surely pass it so. 

It would not be unknown; 
My life that would a message send. 

Thy life to make more glad. 
My Life that must take Death for friend 
Unless it can a message send. 

Thy life to make more glad. 

O Love! O Love! can'st thou not feel 

My soul's delight in thine. 
The angels see it prostrate kneel, 

To thine as to a shrine, 
My soul that as a light would shine. 

For thine on Sorrow's Sea; 
Ah, tears must dim this soul of mine, 
Unless it as a light may shine. 

For thine on Sorrow's Sea. 



SONGS AND BALLADS 117 



LOVE AND LIFE 

YOUR love is my daylight and came like the 
dawn, 
(O Love and O Life you are one) 
To flush into glory my soul all your own, 

(O Love and O Life you are one). 
All nature is now a divine paradise. 
And fragrant as roses that blush with surprise. 
When morning first opens her laughing blue eyes, 
(O Love and O Life you are one). 

When time now before us has furrowed my brow, 

(O Love and O Life you are one), 
Be the bond that shall bind us together as now, 

(O Love and O Life you are one). 
Beyond the dark shadow that hangs between men. 
And the lands that the weary heart sighing calls, 

"Then," 
May a light shine to welcome us glorified, when 

All Love and all Life are as one. 



HER WORDS 

A VINE of Truth that flowers with smiles. 
And is bedewed with tears! 
O'er Wisdom's fathomless defiles 
A vine of Truth that flowers with smiles. 
Entwines its beauty, and beguiles 

My heart of all its fears; 
A vine of Truth that flowers with smiles. 
And is bedewed with tears. 



118 SONGS AND BALLADS 



MY SWEETHEART 

MY sweetheart is very sly, 
Oh! the pet; 
From the corner of her eye, 
The coquette, 
Sent to my poor heart a glance, 
Well, I think, called Cupid's lance. 
Leading me a merry dance, 
Woe's me yet. 

My sweetheart is wondrous fair. 

Soul's surprise! 
Sifted sunshine in her hair. 

And her eyes 
Clearer are than filtered light, 
Drawn from out the stars of night, 
Sprinkled o'er the infinite 

Bent blue skies. 

To her wrong does not exist. 

Guile nor art, 
Light and sweetness both have kissed 

Her pure heart; 
MingUng music up with mirth, 
Ever since her blessed birth, 
On this glorious, great, green earth, 

Is her part. 



SONGS AND BALLADS 119 

My sweetheart is nearly four 

Years of age, 
But of wisdom she has more 

Than the sage; 
Who a heavy soul has sent, 
Into wordy argument, 
Or for many a year has bent, 

O'er dull page. 

From the Giver of all Life, 

My soul's star, 
He who rules both peace and strife. 

Near or far 
This one boon I beg for you. 
Clear celestial drop of dew. 
That he still may keep you true. 

As you are. 



DEAR HEART 

MUSIC that trickles through brook-fairies' fingers, 
Stemming the ripples by sunbeams made 
bright. 
Is not so pure as a clear voice that lingers 
On my soul's senses, unstrung with delight. 

Air that is tangled among orange blossom. 

When Night with dew bathes the fair feet of Day, 

Is not so sweet as the breath of her bosom, 
Flowing from lips the Truth hallows alway. 

Silence that was, ere the stars sang together 

Heralding "Love and sweet Light and pure Law," 

Can alone tell in this hushed summer weather. 
All my heart's love for her — all it's deep awe. 



120 SONGS AND BALLADS 

DID YOU BUT KNOW 
[from the French] 



A 



H, did you but know of the tears that I shed, 
Because by my fireside there is no fond head, 
Before my lone door you would walk, fancy led, 
You would pass — 

Did you but know. 



Ah, did you but know all the look in your eyes 
Calls to life in my weary heart heavy with sighs, 
Just for once, as you passed, your beloved face would 

rise. 
You would glance — 

Did you but know. 

Ah, did you but know of the joy that it brings, 
For one heart to find that another heart clings 
Close as life's life around it, poised on Love's wings 
You would linger — 

Did you but know. 

Ah, did you but know that you were my heart's goal. 
And of my deep love could you fathom the whole, 
Perchance pure and maidenly, white arrayed soul, 
You would enter — 

Did you but know. 



SONGS AND BALLADS l21 

RESEMBLANCE 

[from the FRENCH] 

WOULD you learn what good reason can be 
For this infinite deep tenderness, 
For this passionate longing? Ah, me! 
Vous resemhlez a ma jeunesse. 

Your eyes that bewitch me now gleam 
With a hope, then again with sadness; 
Ah, your whole life seems clad in a dream, 

Vous resemhlez d ma jeunesse. 

Your brow is as pure and as white 
As Parian marble — spotless, 
And crowned with a halo of light, 
Vous resemhlez a ma jeunesse. 

And I offer you humbly each day, 
The love that consumes me, no less, 
Unheeding you pass on your way, 
Vous resemhlez a ma jeunesse. 



122 SONGS AND BALLADS 



"AS YOU WERE" 

WHEN Hope with humid breath comes whis- 
pering, 
(And arms are shouldered for the com- 
ing fray) 
"Forget the strife awhile, beyond today, 
Beside a lily-margined well, 
Enchanted by a mystic spell, 
Fond Love is list'ning to the voice of Spring;" 
Then Duty calls out, "As you were." 

When Liberty with soul-inspiring voice, 

(And arms presented, front the raging fight) 
"Step forth and battle only for the right, 
Unheedful of the little herd. 
Raise up your hand and strongest word 
For Truth alone, and in that Truth rejoice." 
Then Habit calls out, "As you were." 

When Life with heavy sighs says wearily, 

(And arms are stacked beside the spent camp 

fire) 
" Brush off the dust of every vain desire 
To-day you trampled under foot. 
Nor idly think that it will boot 
To ponder o'er the past, heigh-ho! Ah me!" 

Then Death calls calmly, "As you were." 



SONGS AND BALLADS 123 



A PRISONER 

I PLUCKED a crop of kisses from the garden of your 
face, 
And took them to a prisoner I know, 
For years, alas, how many, at a steady thudding pace, 
In doubt, he has been trudging to and fro. 

But when I took your kisses he fell trembling with 
surprise. 

And at your name stopped, with a sudden start, 
And then his lonely cell became to him a Paradise; 

The prisoner, dear lady, is my heart. 



DREAM BLISS 

WHEN on thy face a smile alights, 
And twitters round thine eyes, 
My soul in dreamy bliss delights, 
When on thy face a smile alights, 
Rememb'ring not Nirvana nights. 

It peeps at Paradise; 
When on thy face a smile alights. 
And twitters round thine eyes. 



124 SONGS AND BALLADS 



1 



BOHEMIA 

N the beautiful land of Bohemia, 

Where Common-sense is king, 
And where "Happy-go-lucky, Judge-not" is law. 
The weather is always Spring; 



For its people care nothing for customs old 

And fashion reigns not there, 
But they cheer up their hearts with the Nation's song 

Of "Castles in the Air." 

And no matter how cold be the blasts that blow 

From poverty's bare mart, 
The sufTerer always can find a place 

In somebody's warm heart; 

For the light that was never on land or sea 

Is shed fiom pity's eyes, 
And the songs unsung that the poets hear 

Are blown from Paradise. 

Both the young and the old think alike in this — 

The greatest joy is to give, 
And their highest ambition and chief desire 

Is, fearing naught, to live. 



T 



SONGS AND BALLADS 125 



HARMONY 

HE wind from the west and the sky covered over 
With wavelets of cloud, a fair woman at rest 
Beneath an oak tree in a field of sweet clover, 
The hand on her neck of a babe at her breast. 



A song on her lips and her head bended sidewise, 
A lock of loose hair on her forehead half curled, 

A smile o'er her face and the look in her calm eyes, 
God gives unto mothers alone, in this world. 

The music of Life thrilled her heart, as the child lipped 
Her breast; the warm air fell in murmuring song, 

As bees from the cups of fair scent-laden flowers sipped 
Their sweetness a moment, then hurried along. 

A bird overhead hushed it clear notes to listen, 
A light-footed squirrel to look on advanced. 

The sunbeams made even a gray stone to glisten, 
A brook trilled its music, the leaves' shadows 
danced. 



126 SONGS AND BALLADS 



A LOVE LETTER 

1 PLUCKED a quill from Cupid's wing 
And dipped it in the dew, 
When Nature wore the mask of Spring 
I plucked a quill from Cupid's wing, 
When every tree was offering 

To God a billet-doux 
I plucked a quill from Cupid's wing 
And dipped it in the dew. 

The letter from the dewy quill. 

So full of Love's true art, 
Was like a morning skylark's trill. 
The letter from the dewy quill 
Was quite invisible until 

You warmed it at your heart, 
The letter from the dewy quill 

So full of Love's true art. 

As red as heart's blood then it shone 

Across a page of Fate, 
And as it rambled on and on 
As red as heart's blood then it shone, 
And showed the Hope had had its dawn 

That you would be my mate, 
As red as heart's blood then it shone 

Across a page of Fate. 

The Hope is dead long, long ago. 
You snapped its Silver cord, 
But memory remains, although 
The Hope is dead long, long ago. 



SONGS AND BALLADS 127 

And in my heart could you but know 

The old Love still is lord, 
The Hope is dead long, long ago^ 

You snapped its Silver cord. 



IN THE DAYS THAT NEVER COME 
TO PASS 



I 



N the lands that lie beyond to-morrow, 
I shall woo and win a pretty lass, 
And our hearts shall never know a sorrow, 
In the days that never come to pass. 



Near to babbling brooks of liquid laughter. 
We shall roam among the scented grass. 

And be happy, happy ever after. 

In the days that never come to pass. 

Truth will then be not so hard a riddle. 
Not as now, seen darkly through a glass, 

Love will make for Life a perfect idyl, 
In the days that never come to pass. 

Thus I sang when faith seemed one with folly, 
Days that come to all of us, alas! 

Now I think it may be melancholy. 

Haunts the days that never come to pass. 



128 SONGS AND BALLADS 



SPRING 

WHEN the primroses peep forth, 
Braving winds from east and north, 
And the rain comes helter-skelter with a ring, 
When the birds are on the wing. 
Much too occupied to sing. 
Flirting, fluttering with their mates, then it is Spring. 

When the ploughman plods along. 

With a sweet old-fashioned song 
On his lips, that happy memories must bring, 

And a sense of child-like joy. 

Makes a man feel like a boy. 
As he breathes the keen, sweet air, then it is Spring. 

When the clouds all scurry by. 

In a far ofif opal sky. 
And old ivy leaves no longer care to cling, 

When a thrill runs through the air. 

That all Nature seems to share, 
And begins to smile forthwith at, it is Spring. 

When the roads are moist we tread, 

And a man holds high his head 
With new life, all-be he commoner or king. 

When the bees begin to think 

Of the nectar they will drink 
From the flowers that soon will come, then it is Spring. 



SONGS AND BALLADS 129 



AN AUTUMN IDYL 

AT a harvest home, 
Like a brazen dome 
L Seemed the sky to the temple of Love, 
With my barns well stored. 
To the one adored 
I said, "Share of the fullness thereof." 

As a girl and boy, 

We had known the joy, 
Of a romp through the lush bending grass, 

Then years rolled along, 

Like a lilting song. 
Until what I have told came to pass. 

When I spoke, she stood, 

And let fall her snood, 
And a blush like a deep, damask rose. 

Over-spread her face. 

For a little space. 
And I felt my soul tremble, God knows. 

Then she crept so near, 

I could kiss the tear. 
That was christening the smile in her eyes, 

And her twittering hand. 

Said, "You understand," 
Then I claimed her, my heart's holy prize. 

So let others sing 

Of the hopeful Spring, 
Of the Summer that's wooed by the Sun, 

But the Autumn's mine. 

With its corn and wine, 
And her smile that says, "Lad, we are one." 



130 SONGS AND BALLADS 



THE FIRST BORN 

OTHOU, the most white of the wonders that 
wade 
Through the dew-land of dawn, 

perfect impression of purity, made 

For my soul to lean on. 
What dream or what deed in my life was so fair, 

That the great God above 
Sent thee to reward it and clarify care, 

O my lily-clad love? 

Not, not that I think that alone I was meant 
By thy life to be blest, 

1 know as a Love-lamp for all, thou wert sent, 

In humanity dressed, 
To lighten, to brighten, and gently to shed 

Helping Hope o'er their years, 
And, crowned with a halo of smiles on thy head. 

Teach the value of tears. 

To speak to their hearts of the beauty of Truth 

Of the strength of true Faith, 
And unto their souls in the dawn of thy youth 

Show the meaning of Death. 
So, now to be worthy thy presence most pure, 

And thy gracious, glad face. 
That they may abide, and through His time endure, 

I beseech God for grace, 
And wisdom, and patience, illumined by Light, 

These, for these do I pray. 
To Him who made thee of the calm of the night 

And the glory of day. 



SONGS AND BALLADS 131 



BROTHERS 

>"V TEATH the flag that is burdened with Crosses, 
l^^l And the flag that if brightened with Stars, 
^ N We can walk o'er the wide world together. 
And conquer by Venus and Mars. 

And wherever we go our proud boast is 
That whatever we touch we adorn. 
Have we not brought the blessings of Freedom 
To a land of perpetual morn? 

With the pride that becometh strong peoples, 
In our hearts we thank God none the less, 
In the language of Shakespeare and Lincoln, 
We come of a race that says, Yes! 



GRUMPY'S SONG 

DO a little, dream a little, 
Fight or leave unfought; 
What you do or leave undone 
Is at last forgot. 
Eat a little, drink a little. 
Why run on so fast? 
At the end of every lane 
There's a grave at last! 



132 SONGS AND BALLADS 



THE BALLAD OF A BOUQUET 

1SEND off a little bouquet 
I plucked in my garden nearby, 
And envy its lot that it may 
Surprisingly catch her kind eye. 
For then, if it does, will she try 
A moment or two to disclose 
Its real raison d^etre and why 
A lily, a poppy, a rose. 

Perhaps she will smilingly say, 
"Here Hope goes to sleep with a sigh 
Of Passion," or "Springtime at play 
With drowsy abandoned July;" 
Perhaps for awhile fondle my 
Frail gift tenderly, and who knows, 
At peace on her breast let it lie, 
A lily, a poppy, a rose. 

Or will she just toss it away 
And leave it to wither and die, 
Preoccupied with the cold grey 
Fixed stars in her luminous sky, 
Absorbed in the changeless and high, 
Forgetting the earth where there grows 
Unheeded and yet oh so nigh, 
A lily, a poppy, a rose? 

l'envoi 

That you. Lady dear, typify 

Both Purity, Love, and Repose, 

Is the thought the bouquet would imply- 

A lily, a poppy, a rose. 



SONGS AND BALLADS 133 



THE BALLAD OF SILENCE 

THE Sun shook out his gold red hair, 
And in the downy, dreamy west, 
Bent low his Titan head in prayer, 
Ere sinking down in state to rest; 
Then o'er the fields in twilight dressed, 
The dusky siren Silence crept, 

Safe hidden in her tawny breast. 
The mystery of Fate was kept. 

She held within her finger tips, 

Brought from a faded eastern clime, 

A musk-rose from a mummy's lips. 

That to her own, from time to time 

She pressed, when some heart-throb sublime 

Sought utterance, for those who wept. 
Seeing that in no empty rhyme 

The mystery of Fate was kept. 

A flock of bats around her head. 

In interwoven circles flew. 
Mayhap with message from the Dead, 

Beyond the fields of dawn and dew; 

Or were they souls the world once knew, 
Who, while they should have watched, but slept, 

And so forever from their view, 
The mystery of Fate was kept. 

l' ENVOI 

Ah! brothers, who are more than kind. 
When Time's encircling wall is leapt. 

Shall we not say, "Lest we grew blind, 
The mystery of Fate was kept"? 



134 SO NGS A ND BA LLA DS 



THE BALLAD OF FAME 

THOUGH ye are strong in body, lithe in limb, 
Though ye are throated like an ox in might, 
Though ye are full of valor and of vim, 
Though ye are fearless and arrayed for fight, 
Though ye are at your great ambition's height, 
Though ye have made your world stand in amaze, 
Remember this before ye feel Death's blight, 
The breath of Fame is faint in future days. 

Though by the student's lamp your eyes grow dim, 
Though o'er the page of lore ye bend by night. 
Though ye have famished till your frame grew slim, 
Though ye have taught of "sweetness and of light," 
Though with the laurel-leaves your brows are dight. 
Though in your ears ye hear the song of praise, 
Remember this before ye feel Death's blight, 
The breath of Fame is faint in future days. 

Though ye have faced the nameless terrors grim. 
Though ye have passed the tempter's kiss and bite. 
Though ye have chanted with the cherubim. 
Though to the Sun ye soared with eagle's flight, 
Though ye have thought ye saw the only Right, 
Though ye are blinded thereby as ye gaze, 
Remember this before ye feel Death's blight, 
The breath of Fame is faint in future days. 

l'envoi 
Prince, pedant, priest, to be a whole man quite, 
Soul, mind, and body sue in equal ways. 
Remember this before ye feel Death's blight, 
The breath of Fame is faint in future days. 



Contrasts and Conceits 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 




QK^ 



S55S? 



A SKETCH 

PON a blank page of Eternity, 

In lightning flashes and in shades 

of night, 
God drew a sketch of Life, its 
weakness, might, 
Hopes, fears, and failures, struggles 
to be free. 
Its deeds like islands set in thought's deep sea. 
Its dreams, that soothe with visions of delight. 
The masses waiting for the keen quick bite 
Of Death, that feeds on Wisdom's fruitful tree: 
Sins with the open eyes of smiling youth, 

And virtues with the crooked hands of toil. 
Pleasures that crush the Soul within their coil, 
And pains that bleach it pure and white as Truth; 
But when the Artist saw what he had done, 
He crumpled it and threw it in the Sun. 



137 



138 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



AN IDEAL 

BEHIND a veil of rose-mist stands a Dream, 
A broad-winged smile across her visage 
skims, 
No faintest blemish her fair body dims, 
Nor ever tears upon her eyelids gleam; 
She is a blaze of beauty, like a beam 

Of Light the Sun sends earthward, glory rims 
The utmost shadow of her lithesome limbs, 
More shapely than the mind of man may deem : 
And though the strongest songs he ever sang, 
Like flames aspiring from a bed of fire. 

Die out before they reach her pearl-paved 
place. 
Yet does he strive, unheedful of Time's fang, 
To greet the goddess of his great desire, 

To kiss her feet and gaze upon her face. 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 139 



THE IDEAL 

WITHIN a perfect circle of pure light, 
More brilliant than the blaze of brightest 
Sun, 
Above desiring for herself, stands one, 
Self-centered, with white lilies all bedight; 
And knowing all makes use of her great might. 
To lift the lowly, and leave lonely none 
Who seek for Truth, while yet there sands may run 
Through passion's day or penitence's night. 
And though on earth our minds may not conceive. 
How passing perfect is her peerless face, 

Forth flashing glory, garnered from her soul, 
Yet in Life after life, we do believe. 

That we shall gaze upon her crowned with grace. 
And in her presence grow complete and whole. 



140 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



THE OLDEST ART 

A DAVID'S harp unto the soul of Saul, 
Is she, the oldest, vitalest of arts. 
To all tormented, striving, human hearts, 
Hemmed in and shadowed o'er by Time's dark wall. 
In her clear voice, did not the wisest call, 
Sad iEschylus of old, and Sophocles — 
The leaders of the world in wisdom's ways — 
And William Shakespeare, greatest of them all? 
O God! how grand a thing for one to know. 

That in the mighty harness they have made. 
And led in reverence by the lines they hold. 
He strives to drag away the weight of woe, 
That sin and ignorance upon men laid, 
And bound there with the cursed love of gold. 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 141 



LIBERTY, EQUALITY, FRATERNITY 

LO, in the east, crowned with the rising sun, 
Confucius spoke, "Through Law comes 
Liberty, 
Through what ye are not, learn ye what to be, 
Through what ye may not, learn what should be done;" 
And down the ages rang that voice, till one, 

Prince Buddah, before whom men bowed the knee, 
Stepped down to them and said, "Equality, 
Yea, in Nirvana, out of pure souls spun." 
Last came the crystal-clear absorbing Christ, 
Above all others, faultless, fair, and free, 
Saying, "Our Father," claimed Fraternity, 
And to make good that claim, with death made tryst; 
Each lived the thought that to the world he taught, 
And worshipped God by works that he had 
wrought. 



142 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



HAMLET BORN 

BESIDE the couch where his young girl-wife lay 
In trembling pity Denmark's good King 
stood, 
The King forgotten in the father's mood, 

While wiping from her brow the damp away; 

Upon the throne, deserted for that day. 
Mad Yorick sat in silence, sad, alone, 
With dreams and fancies, had the world but known, 

It might have laughed or wept at, one dare say. 

Outside, old Death stood by the wild, joy fires, 

Hamlet, that hailed thy birth, and at their blaze 
Warming his withered hands, foresaw thy days. 

Foresaw the end of shameless sin's desires. 
Foresaw thy anxious soul's sore misery. 
And smiling to himself said, "H-m, for me." 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 143 



SHYLOCK DEAD 

ALONE and broken-hearted, with the dew 
Of Death upon his eyelids and his eyes — 
The mist that hangs on this side Paradise — 
He called upon the Mighty One he knew, 
The God of Abraham and Isaac, who 

Could come to him, on flaming wings of fire, 
And grant at last his weary soul's desire, 
So let him die as he had lived — a Jew. 
Where his long suffering tribe no base badge wear, 

But walk in shining robes of glory drest. 
Where psalms and songs float ever on the air, 

Old Shylock sought and found eternal rest; 
Found her he long had yearned for, waiting there. 

Found sweet content and peace, on Leah's breast. 



144 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



HEDDA GABLER 

A SAPPHO soul astray in Saga lands, 
By hungry fears of bondage driven to bay; 
Above her dead Ideals, saw the gray 
Calm face of Fate that wholly understands. 
Then with despairing but unfettered hands. 

O'er which the torch of License shed a ray 
Of blood, she in abandon dashed away 
From Life its hour-glass with the running sands. 
With will-o-wisps of Freedom burning pale 
Around her bier, and the discredited 
Wan Dream of Joy with vine leaves on its head 
Chief mourner, does she know now if her goal 
Holds yet another chance for those who fail 
To learn earth's noblest lesson, — Self-control? 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 145 



HESTER PRYNNE 

A FRAGRANT tear-dewed blossom blowing in 
A Heaven-haunted Hell, swayed by the 
breath 

Of Sorrow's most pathetic song of Death, 
The broken-hearted christen, "Might-Have-Been;" 
Such was the Love arrayed in Scarlet Sin, 

Forever damned the Hebrew Prophet saith. 

That for awhile exhaled a living Faith 
To cheer the tortured soul of Hester Prynne. 
Poor Hester Prynne, who took a broken law 

And set its jagged crystals as a jewel 
In the rich gold of pure Fidelity, — 
Who knows, but high in Heaven the good God saw 

A thing of Beauty, where the little school 
Of men saw only worthless misery. 



146 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



PLAYING WITH FIRE 

^^HE tossed, from hand to hand, with juggler's skill, 
^^ For many a year the burning hearts of men, 

Vta-/ And watched with half-shut eyes them quiver, 
when 

They fluttered past each other to fulfill 

Her filip's orbit, inattentive till, 

With quickened touch, again and yet again 
In closing circles they would blaze, and then 

To ashes turn, consumed with thoughts that kill. 

But gazing on those fatal lights so long — 

Although mischance as yet did never mar 
With blist'ring burn or an unseemly scar. 

Her peerless face that still is as a song — 

Her eyes have lost the precious power to see 
The line of Beauty in Simplicity. 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 147 



HEART TO HEART 

FOR many a day I strove to weave a cage, 
From thoughts that grew at naming of thy 
name, 
Best known to me but not unknown to Fame, 
Who smiling o'er it, writes it on her page; 
But when my mind would in this task engage, 

A soft delicious Dream, wing-clad, makes claim 
On its attention, saying, "Whence she came 
I go, come join me in my pilgrimage." 
Yet fain would I that cage complete, and close 
Therein a singing bird, whose song should be 
As fresh as kisses to the land from sea, 
And warm as perfume from a perfect rose, 

"What songster. Sir," you say, "has such an art?" 
Hush! tell it to your heart, "It is his heart." 



148 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



POVERTY 

HAIL! Poverty, severe as thou art great, 
Thou mighty midwife of eternal minds. 
Accept the homage of a man, who finds 
In thee the handmaid of omniscient Fate; 
I, weakling of thy blood, am no ingrate, 

And while I live will praise thee, who unbinds 
The body from the soul, and sifts and grinds 
The good from bad, and gives to each, estate. 
Out, on the little crew who call thee cursed. 

Fed on a silver spoonful of delight, 
They never in thy rugged arms were nursed, 

Or heard the beating of thy heart by night. 
What if they quaff the wine of pleasure? Thine, 
The milk of human kindness, drink divine. 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 149 



DEATH 

MY name is Death, some know me as the Dawn, 
Upon the western walls of Time I stand, 
Before men's eyes I wave a magic wand. 
With "Heart's Desire" they say writ large thereon; 
Weak men whose souls with fearful doubts are gnawn, 
Catch sight of me and smile, the strong are fanned 
By music from the movement of my hand, 
And into seeming peace are gladly drawn. 
Yet none shall learn the mysteries that lie 
Behind my back, until they cease to see 
The green, grey garment of the things that be. 
And all the white-winged wonders of the sky. 
Enough to know and this unasked I give, 
I guard the home of Hope for all who live. 



150 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



SORROW'S CROWN 

LIKE to a bird that's drifted far from land, 
A bird whose mate still twitters in the trees, 
Not dreaming of that heart upon the seas, 
Beating its life out in a struggle grand, 
To reach again the golden -grained sand; 
Nor nest, nor nestling it again ere sees. 
But with glazed eyes, it thinking still of these. 
Sinks down into the hollow of God's hand. 
So is that man who for a short life's space 

On finite wings of puny thought does roam 
Afar from Truth, and Truth is Beauty's home, 
Who seeks to cross the Infinite, and trace, 
By seeming facts, the mystery of fate, 
But dies at last while crying out — too late. 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 151 



DUTY'S KISS 

WHEN Life from Love accepts rough Labor's 
yoke, 
And strives to climb the upward, narrow 
path. 
Temptation lined and rugged as a strath, 
Why does a smile, like Prospero's bright cloak, 
Hang round that Life, yea, though its heart be broke? 
Is it the thought of heavenly aftermath, 
A better gleaning than the moment hath, 
Begot of firm belief in what Hope spoke? 
Art-workers answer, "Beauty's face we see. 

And in her smile are decked, and by it led"; 
But others trudging on to join the dead. 
Find cause for wonder in such ecstacy, 
And I! I cannot answer why it is. 
But somehow think, that smile is Duty's Kiss. 



152 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



TALENT 

WITHIN the circus ring of circumstance, 
In tarnished trapping, many years since, 
brought 
By conquest from the Arab tents of Thought, 

An ambling Soul is made to pace or prance, 

Kneel, nod, or caper in a clever dance. 
Aye, in a word, show all the little lot 
Of laughing tricks, that even done are naught. 

And scarce worth Fate, the great ring-master's glance. 

Yet, in the intervals between the play, 

A wild desire, to be for once quite free, 

To roam at large, to browse beneath the tree 

Of Knowledge, comes and stings as gad-fly may; 

Still, nimbly, when the next performance comes. 
It answers to the call of trump and drums. 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 153 



GENIUS 

FROM far off lonely peaks of virgin snow, 
Relentlessly forever onward pressed, 
From glade to glen, from canyon to the crest 
Of jutting crag, from plain to vast plateau, 
Forever on, in haste or crawling slow, 

A snake-like river winds down to its nest 
In the wide sea, whose unpolluted breast 
The pulsing tide heaves ever to and fro. 
After its weary course at last is run. 

After the thirsty roots of Life's green tree 
Have sucked its waters of Divinity, 
At last it shall be kissed up by the Sun 

To form a cloud to shade, a shower to bless 
The lands that knew not of its first caress. 



154 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



IDLE WORDS 

THE idle empty words that I may speak, 
Where go they on the boundless sea of sound, 
What shall they seem, when presently I round 
Life's utmost jagged tempest-riven peak? 
Shall this lie rotting like a wreck aleak. 

And that, like flying-fish make sudden bound 
Truth-winged, to sink into the deeps profound. 
And wear a rusty smile that seems to creak? 
Some day I know that they shall all be met. 
Each one a vacant-eyed reproachful elf. 
Grinning in chorus, "Lo! I am thyself 
Forgotten, now forgetting to forget" — 

Ah, brother! wound me not with m_ocking laugh, 
Is God less mighty than a phonograph? 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 155 



PECCAVI 

O SWEET Immortals, ye whose lives are white, 
Among whose shining ranks I hoped to 
stand, 
When dreaming youth with Love walked hand in 
hand 
Across the scented fields of morning light; 
Astray, and straying past recall and sight 
Of even your melodious bright band. 
My wandering feet are caught in the quick-sand 
Of Death, and hopeless change in changeless night. 
Not from the rocks of earth, but from the flint 
Hard hearts of men an echo, to my call 
For help, comes, mocking my soul's funeral. 
With vain, vain repetitions without stint. 
Is there no hope through all eternity? 
Peccavi, God'a mercy e'en on me. 



156 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



A CHRISTIAN 

GOD laid a Sceptre of white lilies on 
The shoulder of his Soul, as lightly as 
A sunbeam touches Springtime's tender 
grass, 
And bade him rise a Knight, sworn to the wan 
Fair thorn-crowned Christ, and sworn to neither fawn 
Nor falsely bend the knee to the dense mass 
Of faithless ones, but with Love's banner pass 
Amongst them, with the sword of Hate undrawn. 
Heard by his heart, a Still Small voice doth cheer 
And comfort him, in trying times and ways, 
And little children sing him songs of praise. 
Yea when at last with gently falling tear. 

Death leaves him on the footsteps of the Throne 
A nail-pierced Hand shall claim him for Its Own. 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 157 



A CANNIBAL 

DEEP in the jungle of a city's streets, 
With other wild untamable sad things, 
A man who might have held high 
court with Kings 
Of Thought, roams aimlessly, and greets 
Each tardy morning with the smile Death meets 
When kissing some defiant skull, and flings 
All hope of hope into the wind, that sings 
A requiem o'er a world of shows and cheats. 
Then in the lonely caverns of the night 

Where weird unholy fancies hoot and caw, 
Dark rebels to the primal voice of Law, — 
He hides himself from even God's clear sight 
He thinks, and being thus alone, apart. 
Eats out his palpitating bleeding heart. 



158 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



A REFORMED RAKE 

UNSELFISH tenderness and loving care 
He brings his wife, and calmly strives to 
please 
Her every wish, and though her faults he sees 
Yet he is tolerant, and seeks to spare 
Her from the knowledge that he knows them there, 
These little faults that often are the lees 
Of that pure pleasure wedded bliss can squeeze 
From out the dead-side fruit of Time's despair. 
Reformed he is, and upright, yes as Truth, 

But happy? never! Why? because, forget 
He cannot, that his heart had been 
Cremated on the passions of his youth; 

So nightly now he scours with bloody sweat 
And that heart's ashes his poor conscience 
clean. 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 159 



A MAGDALEN 

FLOGGED thither by lust's desecrating fire, 
The ghosts of unfledged races find a tomb 
Within her hollow unproductive womb, 
A half burned crater of blown-out desire, 
Where mystery was bartered for small hire — 

Where God's life-secret to create should room 
As deep a mystery of awful gloom 
Now lies and on the urn Love's broken lyre. 
Virtues, like stepping stones to solemn rest, 
Mark the volcano spent, the gen'rous Sun 
Does sometimes gild it with its gold fine spun 
In Nature's loom of loveliness, at best 
Some nodding scarlet poppies on it grow. 

But fragrant warm bright blushing roses — no. 



160 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



MARRIAGE 

WITHIN the lonesome depths of awful night, 
I met the wild barbaric Past of me, 
Firm-jawed and fearless, unabashed and 
free, 
And deathless prayers and passions flashed a light 
From out Her level eyes, that straight did smite 

My listening soul with question, "Shall you be, 
Or through a dawnless dim eternity 
With unavailing shadows take your flight?" 
Quick from the central confines of my soul, 
A voice rose clearly in commanding calm, 
"Beloved, kiss me and behold I am. 
Yea, but embrace me, we are one and whole." 

Strange, now, a-down the dream-lit aisles of space 
I see the Future watching with Her face. 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 161 



A VALENTINE 

HAD it the power, the voice that speaks to you 
Would cuddle up and in your heart's lap fall, 
Like some delicious gushing madrigal, 
You first heard, wading ankle-deep in dew 
Within the morning of a Dream, on new 

Untrodden continents of Hope, where all 
Unheeding Youth stands at the beck and call 
Of Love enthroned in gold and green and blue. 
Alas, no alchemist of art is nigh 

To cunningly transmute by fire divine 

This verse into a silver-throated song, 
Yet word to word is hyphened by a sigh 
Of longing to be thought a valentine 

For your Soul singing as it jogs along. 



162 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



THE FIRST KISS 

1 PLEDGE myself life-deep to keep the thought 
That rose dawn-robed when first her lips 
touched mine 

In perfect purity, it seemed a sign 
That God for me a miracle had wrought 
And out of all my discords safely brought 

A tune where dreams with nobler deeds combine. 

It seemed to give my hand a silver line 
To lead me to the Shrine of Peace I sought; 
It drenched in moonlight all the Past and shed 

A golden glory on the Future's face, 
It tore a crown of thorns from Love's bent head, 

And Hope's bright diadem put in its place; 
It showed the meaning of unending strife, 
It was in very truth a breath of Life. 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 163 



THE LAST KISS 

AS fragrant balm from far off isles of Bliss 
Is welcomed by wayfarers as they go 
Elysium-ward, so too I seem to know, 
Through some unknown keen sense, that all of this 
Rough sea of Life leads on to that which is — 
For after this I shall, come weal or woe, 
Remember always how she came to throw 
A light on Life hereafter with her kiss; 
Not on the lips as when of old we met, 

Nor cheek, nor eyes, nor hand, but just the place, 
I think in Love-mad May-time she prized most 
Upon my brow, now clammy with the sweat 
Of pallid Fate's implacable hot chase — 
The first kiss had a perfected white ghost. 



164 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



A FARCE 

THE noon of night was canopied with awe, 
And darkness dense, unbroken by a 
beam 

Of hopeful light, made silence almost seem 
An arm to lean on and a mouth to draw 
Close to my ear for comfort, when I saw, 

As if in burning brimstone's bluish gleam, 

A meagre unbaptized persistent Dream 
Arise, and write upon the air the Law 
Of Harvest — "Ye shall reap what others sow. 

Yea, as ye sow, so shall another reap, 
For in a winding-sheet of last year's snow 

Ye wrap the Future up from face to feet, 
And plant upon its grave some longings sparse 

That by-and-by shall look on as a farce." 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 165 



LONELINESS 

HIS heart is a wind-swept desert wide, 
And in the crater of the empty well 
Of Truth is blown the withered asphodel 
Of Purity, that crowned the crucified; 
Three crosses mark the place whereon they died, 

Faith, Hope, and Charity, who heard their knell 
Ring in that bleak and barren burnt-out hell. 
Where now but ghostly memories abide. 
No tree gives branch to be old age's crutch, 

No star shines there to guide where day is not, 
No loving hand brings comfort with a touch, 

But Life prays sullenly to be forgot, 
And pass beyond the reach of human ken, 
Till Death shall whisper with white lips "Amen." 



166 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



A CHANCE ACQUAINTANCE 

1SAW, or was it heard, I cannot tell, 
A Dream-song dying at the birth of Dawn, 
I cannot tell for every sense was drawn 
Into the focus of a mystic spell 
That left them awe-struck huddled up pell-mell; 
I know I felt illusive sweetness gone 
Away beyond my reach, and thereupon 
I wept and woke immersed in the light-well 

Of morning; then a strange reaction came, 
I seemed to be no longer quite alone. 

As in the old times full of shame and blame, 
A presence I had never before known 

Was by my side, I thought, the whole day long, 
I wonder if it was the dead Dream-song. 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 167 



A LIFE SENTENCE 

WITH bandit touch my eyes made bold with you 
One night beneath Bohemia's blue skies, 
When straight the hand-cuffs of your steely 
eyes 
Arrested them and made me prisoner too. 
A willing captive, I was made to do 
Obeisance, being led in sweet surprise 
Within a palpitating Paradise 
Where old Ideals were upraised anew. 
There for a span, where time was quite forgot, 
I fed on kisses culled by holy wells 
Of thought, I heard your words chime like the bells 
Of Morning's Sabbath ere sin was begot. 

I fell asleep in radiant despair, 
I wake to find my soul still prisoned there. 



168 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



HOPE DEFERRED 

O HEAVY eyes that ache with unshed tears, 
Fixed steadfast on the blaze of a Belief, 
A Shadow, like an ancient god's grey grief, 
Has lain upon your lids these many years; 
Poor quivering lips, nigh parted by the fears 

That fain would laugh between, not yet relief 
For you, not yet, in an intense, bright, brief, 
Full-flushed, triumphant kiss, when Truth appears. 
Is it great wonder that the once strong heart 

Has grown numbed, nerveless, in the dim twilight 
Of unremunerative Time? The bite 
Of Death would welcomed be, for blood would start 
Once more in a red rush, wer't but to cease 
And be absorbed in an unconscious peace. 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 169 



"A MOMENT'S MONUMENT" 

GREY skies are dismal thoughts and nothing 
done; 
Heart look to it or ere the hour be spent, 
Something shall stand for this day's monument, 
Some error conquered, some new life begun, 
Some flower of Faith peep forth to greet the sun, 
Some dove-like Hope come back, that once was 

sent 
Out o'er the floods of doubting discontent, 
Though of the olive's branches it bears none; 
Beat to the tune the stars sang, when of old 

"Peace and good-will" first fell on mortal ears. 
And, set in an aureola of tears. 
The shining face of smiling Love behold; 
All failing else, in passionate despair 
Trudge on, resolved to be something somewhere. 



170 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



HEREDITY 

A RESTLESS outlaw left the city's din, 
And sought, he knew not why, in green clad 
fields, 
The rest, quiet Nature to her children yields. 

Sore burthened by their heavy hearts within; 

By chance he met, or e're the night set in, 

A maiden, with the dawn's light in her eyes, 
Who listened to his voice in mute surprise, 

And loved him for his strength and knew no sin. 

Back to the city went the lawless man. 

And by his side this woman, whose soft words 
Were sweeter than the music of song birds, 

Who bore a child and suffered for a span; 

Then heard the Voice that bids all sorrows cease, 
So, smiling, passed into the land of Peace. 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 171 



II. 



From her son's son, in half a hundred years, 
A cripple came, whose body held a soul, 
That paid to Time, in silence, the grim toll 

Revengeful Fate had fashioned out of tears — 

A soul that rose above all body's fears, 

And felt a calm, beyond its own control 
To mar or make, directing to the goal 

Where perfect Life, Love's perfect music hears. 

An erring father's sins we know shall pass 

Unto his children's children, may not these 

Fair virtues of our mothers still come back. 

And bring with them the perfume of the grass. 
The lisp of leaves on consecrated trees. 
The feeling for the Infinite we lack? 



172 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



THE LAST LOOK 

MORE white than blackthorn blossoms or the 
snow, 
Between some briny kisses wet with tears 
Of parting, now a woman's face appears 
And looks the pain that God alone can know 
When some lost Soul that loved him once must go 
Away behind His back, a look that sears 
Since then her plighted lover's barren years 
Who needs must forth and strike for Truth a blow. 
A "truth" she could not see and would not seem 

To harbour, for she loved her lover far 
Too well to lie — She "loved" — ah! do I dream 
I — I — who killed her heart and hourly war 
With vain regrets by day and all night long. 
For now I know the "Truth" I thought right — wrong. 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 173 



A VAGUE REPORT 

IF haply one might pass the bourne of dross, 
Of futile strife, of dead unfinished deeds, 
Of jangling jealousies, of barren creeds, 
Of dreamy quagmires overgrown with moss; 
And, casting all aside, ne'er count it loss 

Again, but, following where Love still leads. 
Would he hear suddenly, amid green meads, 
The voice of Conscience preaching with her Cross? 
So, in the haunted chambers of unrest, 

Where fevered Life gropes blindly for release, 
And cheats itself with will-o'-wisps of peace, 
A rumor runs, that racks each tortured breast 
With strivings to recall resplendent days 
When Hope, with peering eyes, spoke words of 
praise. 



174 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



THE PROMPTER 

INTO the lowly valley of my life, 
Where dreams and fancies dance in idle play, 
Love came and with a zephyr-voice did say 
"What kind of woman would you woo for wife?" 
I answered tremblingly because the strife 

Of being made me pause: "Had I my way 
The might of knowledge and the mirth of May 
Would make her face with fascination rife, 
Her eyes would have the light of Love's own hue, 
Her hair the falling waves of perfect rest 
To lull me into peace upon her breast 
And leave me listening to her heart-beats true," 

And then Love said: "Her Soul would be a voice 
That whispered 'Labor and in that rejoice.'" 



CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 175 



DREAM-PASTURES 

A FLOCK of Dreams in dignified repose, 
Within the flowering pastures of her face, 
Where Faith has set the light of mystic 
grace, 
Lie waiting for the voice of him who knows 
The lonely peaks of Truth, o'ercapped with snows 
That warmly Shelter the pure hiding place 
Of Love, waiting for yet a little space 
For him, whose voice shall somehow seem a rose. 
Ah, brother, somewhere on your holy quest. 
Tonight you travel on to meet the light, 
Could you but hear my call, fleet as thought's 
flight. 
Your feet would bring you here, and as a guest 

Full welcome, you would join the song those Dreams 
Strike from the harp-strings of divine star-beams. 



176 CONTRASTS AND CONCEITS 



TO THOSE I LOVE 

WHEN you are old and talk with soft slow tongue 
Around your chair some autumn night, 
maybe, 

Your children's children, gathered at your knee, 
Will call to mind a word that you heard sung 
Away off in the moon-lit past among 

The haunts of men, and you'll say tenderly. 

Half to yourself, unmindful of their glee, 
"Ah, Donald sang for me when I was young." 
I shall be then beyond the call of man. 

Quite done with gladness or its shadow grief, 
Commingled with the elemental Life; 
But now, here in the thickness of the strife, 
I borrow from the future while I can, 

And joy heart-deep in that child-like belief. 



Rhymes and Runes 



RHYMES AND RUNES 



CUPID'S JEST 



I^^^^^UPID came in cap and bells 
To the court of Love, 
In among the Dawn's green dells, 
Cupid came in cap and bells 
To the place where Venus dwells, 
And threw down a glove; 
Cupid came in cap and bells 
To the court of Love. 




Challenged Venus' retinue 

To defend her fame, 
As a ringing blast he blew. 
Challenged Venus' retinue, 
Said a fairer one he knew — 
Psyche was her name; 
Challenged Venus' retinue 
To defend her fame. 



179 



180 RHYMES AND RUNES 

To a thing in motly drest 

None would deign reply, 
Thinking it an idle jest, 
To a thing in motley drest 
Queenly Venus from her breast 

Sent howe'er a sigh; 
To a thing in motley drest 
None would deign reply. 

Cupid heard the sigh and felt 

Pity dim his eyes, 
And his heart began to melt, 
Cupid heard the sigh and felt 
He should kneel, so down he knelt 

Doffing his disguise; 
Cupid heard the sigh and felt 

Pity dim his eyes. 

For the sake of bye-gone days 

Knelt he thus so low, 
While her court stood in amaze, 
For the sake of bye-gone days 
When to gain from her some praise. 

He had bent his bow; 

For the sake of bye-gone days 

Knelt he thus so low. 

Wearied out with what men say 

In Desire's control. 
Somehow from that very day. 
Wearied out with what men say, 
In a strange and unknown way 

Venus found a Soul; 
Wearied out with what men say 

In Desire's control. 



RHYMES AND RUNES 181 

Far more beautiful she grew 

Noble men attest, 
Formed of sea-foam, fire, and dew, 
Far more beautiful she grew, 
And has power now to imbue 

Worshippers with rest; 
Far more beautiful she grew 

Noble men attest. 

With the sunlight on his head 

Cupid kissed his hand. 
Stretched his wings lark-like and sped. 
With the sunlight on his head, 
Yea with song the good news spread 

Over all the land. 
With the sunlight on his head 

Cupid kissed his hand. 



BODY AND SOUL 

AN Atom and a Spirit met 
In cloudland's cosmic bed, 
Beliefs opposing alphabet 
An Atom and a Spirit, met 
And made one, who does not forget 

In him they two are wed; 
An Atom and a Spirit met 

In cloudland's cosmic bed. 



182 RHYMES AND RUNES 



FOLLOW THE LEAD 

BOTH in and out, 
And round about, 
To Nature's changing tune. 
The Month's have danced, 
And skipped and pranced. 
Till July's near to June. 

By mossy creek, 

And icy peak. 
At follow-lead they've played, 

Now witching May, 

Across the clay. 
Runs after April's shade. 

The laughing Sun, 

His work well done. 
From his wide realm looks down. 

And sees June wear. 

Twined in her hair. 
His roses for a crown. 

But bold July, 

With jealous eye, 
Says, "Turn, your Majesty," 

Alas! Alack! 

Just at her back. 
Says August, "Turn to me." 

And then ere long. 
With chime and song. 
In nature's ermine, snow. 



RHYMES AND RUNES 183 

A joyous band 
Will countermand 
The cry of those that go. 

In roses white 

And red bedight, 
Still June in glory glows, 

And yet awhile 

She wears his smile, 
The Sun's smile, a red rose. 



THE DAWN FAIRY 

AF'AIRY came from out the land 
Of fair-faced dreams, it held a wand 
Of scented sunbeams in it's hand — 
Upon it's head a coronet 
Of silvery thistle down, beset 
With dew drops from a violet. 
The robes of mist in which 'twas dressed, 
Dye from a maiden's blushes pressed 
Had tinted pearly pink. It's breast 
Was beautiful as Youth; it's feet 
With fire-flies wings were shod that beat 
The air to music. Sweet, Oh, sweet 
To me, as Light to Life, were those 
Pure notes that like faint odor rose 
And fell around me. Ere their close 
The Fairy vanished, but though gone 
It left a voice that smote upon 
My heart the words, "I was your Dawn." 



184 RHYMES AND RUNES 



T 



THE DEVIL'S DREAM 

HE Devil, aweary once, fell asleep on 
The bank of the River of Tears, 
And dreamed of the deeps of delight that were 
his 
Ere Time was told off into years. 



Ere man was yet made, or he made to make man 

See good above all is the best, 
When Law was called Love, and when Light lay on all 

Like a crown, to rest upon rest. 

Well, a vision of virtue from out of that past. 

Like mist from a marsh of the sea, 
Rose up in his dream, and seemed fair unto him 

As of old, — and he yearningly 

Smiled to it, leaned out his soul to it, when, lo! 

A bird in a clump of dark oak. 
Burst forth into song, and his vision was gone, 

He heard it, and cursing awoke. 

"Out, out on you bird!" he cried, "No song of yours 

Again shall be heard in the light. 
In the dark you shall mourn alone, and be called 

The nightingale — bird of the night." 

Thus came it that music with starlight was wed, 

To herald an incoming morn. 
For that bird by night sings even now, "Out of 

The Darkness called Death, Life is born." 

But the Devil with suffering upturned eyes, 

Since waking at sound of that song. 
In lone haunted places upon the wind cries, 

"How long, O^my Master, how long?" 



RHYMES AND RUNES 185 



CREATION 

IN vast and unimagined space, 
Ere Life or Death was born, 
Ere Time had lined the baby face 
Of Hope, not yet forlorn. 

On trailing clouds of sobbing sound, 
God lay asleep and dreamed. 
Upon His lips a soft breath found 
The sight word, Love. It beamed 

Forth into Light when He awoke. 
And bade Creation come, 
Wailing died Chaos as He spoke 
The words, "Behold Love's home." 

The echo of the wailing cry 
Tired hearts hear and call Sorrow; 
The Harper calls Love, Harmony; 
The Painter calls Love, Beauty; 
The Poet calls Love, God. 



186 RHYMES AND RUNES 



I 



A RED-LETTER NIGHT 

N her dream-nest built from the blossoms of Art, 
We sat and chatted the hours away, 
And in someway or other, it seemed the heart 

Of each to each had a word to say. 

Or a little tune to softly play. 



As a matter of fact, but a month ago 

The lady had never heard my name, 

Now behold, on our minds was the golden glow 
That comes from the give-and-taking game 
Of friendship, — little I gave, more blame! 

Though alike we liked much as the other did 
Is true, be it music, books, or men, 

Yet I scarcely think that that lifted the lid 
From each of our lives and told us when 
To gently cover them up again. 

No, I really think, if the truth were known, 
There stood by the elbow of each mind. 

The attentive ghost of a sorrow outgrown. 
That left for legacy this behind, 
The wish to be humbly just and kind. 

But be that as it may, this I surely know, 
So the why and wherefore matters not, 

That my Soul drifted out on an undertow 
Of unvoiced feeling, to that bright spot 
Where sordid worry is quite forgot. 



RHYMES AND RUNES 187 

To say that I thank her is only mere words, 
I do, though, nevertheless, and make 

This beside (did I hear the new Spring's birds?) 
A promise to self to calmly take 
New hope, because of that evening's sake. 



1 



A PROTEST 

AM sick of weak-kneed nagging nothings, 
So full-filled with regret and reform, 
They whose loves are as vain as their loathings, 
And whose thoughts at the best are lukewarm. 



They have drugged the desires of ambition. 

As an opiate deadens the brain, 
And have stung spotless virtue's volition 

With an irritant, itch-aching pain. 

For what use then should I longer stay them, 
These poor withered wasps of last night? 

From the weeds, not the flowers, surely they came, 
Not to beautify, only to blight. 

Let us up then and off with the morning, 

Let us fly, O my heart, let us fly, 
To the lands that the dawn is adorning. 

Where to live is not daily to die. 



188 RH Y M E3 AND RUNES 



THE FIRST DREAM 

I HAVE fluttered down the ages, 
Since beneath the Eden tree, 
With her head erect and looking 
Down the days that were to be, 
Stood the woman, Eve, the chosen, 

Blest as only women are, 
With a mystery about her 

Like the stillness round a star. 
In her fragile hands she held me 

As a bird is held to fly. 
And a little sound of weeping 

Was commingled with Good-bye, 
As unlacing her thin fingers 

She outstretched her arms in prayer. 
And I set sail on my journey 

Down the unwinged virgin air — 
I, the Dream of Eve, the Mother 

Of the generations vast 
Who have danced away the Springtimes 

And the Autumns of the past; 
I, the Dream of Eve, who may not 

Fold its wings, until there rise 
On this earth a man as perfect 

As the vision in her eyes. 
When alone she stood in Eden 

And beheld on Earth's green sod 
Her descendant standing fearless, 

In the likeness of his God. 



RHYMES AND RUNES 189 



TO A FRIEND 

COME tell us, pray, where did you get the grace, 
Of that perennial youth that gilds your 
heart? 
Not surely in the sooty ways of men, 

Where man is bought and sold as in a mart; 
Come tell us, pray. 

How comes it that your heart to hope gives ear. 
When everywhere vice cries out, trumpet loud, 

"Fair Virtue's dead, her ghost, King Death, has wed. 
And given her for a trousseau, his white shroud"; 
How comes it so? 

Are you made strong within that home of yours, 
Where she, the gracious mistress of old grace, 

Sits by twin vital fountains of delight, 

And with pure love bathes sorrow from your face; 
Is it e'en so? 

Howe'er it is, it has been mine to know 

And taste the kindness of your gen'rous soul, 

It has been mine to hear you say, "God speed", 
Now passing by your way I pay this toll — 
Howe'er it is. 



190 RHYMES AND RUNES 



W 



"A YOUNG MAN'S F"ANCY" 

HEN lilies of the valley ring 

Their fairy chimes to madcap May, 
I hear the voice of Cupid sing. 



I seem to be obliged to fling 

All sorrow from my heart away, 
When lilies of the valley ring. 

And as the orchestra of Spring 

At Nature's nod begins to play, 
I hear the voice of Cupid sing. 

Coquettish hopes on level wing 

Come back once more to hear his lay. 
When lilies of the valley ring. 

When all around me everything 

Shakes perfume from its bright array, 
I hear the voice of Cupid sing. 

From east to west when Love is king, 

Earth, sea, and sky each seems to say, 
"When lilies of the valley ring 
I hear the voice of Cupid sing." 



o 



RHYMES AND RUNES 191 



PHRYNE AND THE FOOL 

DAUGHTER of a perverse Fate, 

Whose soul laughs at its fell decree, 
Say art thou now disconsolate? 



Dost thou remember at the gate 

Of Life we lingered dreamily, 
O daughter of a perverse Fate? 

The leaves of Spring in Autumn's grate 

Blazed when Love touched us stealthily, 
Say art thou now disconsolate? 

Or is it only I who prate, 

Of past delights incessantly, 
O daughter of a perverse Fate? 

Cast out forlorn from Hope's estate 
I care not what becomes of me. 
Say art thou now disconsolate? 

If so, come back and be my mate 

Eternally — Eternally ! 
O daughter of a perverse Fate, 
Say art thou now disconsolate? 



192 RHYMES AND RUNES 



W 



MISUNDERSTOOD 

HEN all around misunderstand 

The worthy motive moving you, 
Then God appears and takes your hand. 



Past, present, both are bitter and 

The Future has a ghostly hue, 
When all around misunderstand. 

When all you purely did and planned 

You see blind ignorance undo, 
Then God appears and takes your hand. 

In vain you threaten and command 

Vague shapeless horrors from your view. 
When all around misunderstand. 

When ashes and the barren sand 

Between your aching teeth you chew, 
Then God appears and takes your hand. 

This is the secret that the band 

Of highest lives through sorrow knew, 
When all around misunderstand 
Then God appears and takes your hand. 



RHYMES AND RUNES 193 



WHEN I WAS YOUNG 

" "X" 4 T^HEN I was young," old Christmas said, 
"And o'er the earth began to tread, 
The tears of Pan fell on the snow, 
And turned to seeds of mistletoe, 
When I was young." 



W 



"With bleeding limbs the Dryads fled 
From out the woods, and berries red 
On holly bush began to grow. 
When I was young." 

"And then a strange report was spread, — 
That laughing Cupid's curl-crowned head 
Should in my presence be bent low, 
That I would break his pagan bow; — 
I took him for my friend instead, 
When I was young." 



194 RHYMES AND RUNES 



I SING, HURRAH! 

1SING, Hurrah! for this bright lot, 
Shakespeare and Byron, Burns and Scott, 
Four men to whom the good luck fell, 
To look at Heaven and laugh at Hell, 
I sing. Hurrah! 

They did not care a single jot 
For unessentials, and they got 
The joy that comes from work done well, 
I sing. Hurrah! 

They sang of Truth and for it fought, 
"The Truth," they cried, "the Truth or naught," 
In voice as clear as silver bell, 
A voice that casts o'er men a spell 
And lifts them up to it's high thought; 
I sing, Hurrah! 



RHYMES AND RUNES 195 



THE BITTER CUP 

THE bitter cup, if it be mine 
To drink, and leave the fragrant wine 
Untasted, Lord then make me strong 
To drink it, as mine ears a song, 
The bitter cup. 

Think not I murmur nor repine, 
Because I pray as He did, Thine, 
"Let it pass from me without wrong, 
The bitter cup." 

Well, well I know the crystal line 
Of highest lives drank it for sign 
Of freedom from the fears that throng 
Round us, while we to Time belong; 
They drained its dregs, nor did decline 
The bitter cup. 



196 RHYMES AND RUNES 



THE MEANEST MAN 

THE meanest man that ever trod 
This great, green, vast, law-governed sod, 
Had thoughts in him as pure as snow 
That mountain clouds embrace, although 
The meanest man. 

Pure thoughts, that neither need to nod 
Nor blush before the gaze of God, 
Tombed in the lowest of things low, 
The meanest man. 

Not as a staff, but as a rod, 
Thoughts came to drive him from the broad 
Way unto everlasting woe — 
That is the reason, would ye know. 
They torture as a plague or prod. 
The meanest man. 



RHYMES AND RUNES 197 



A COUNTRY LANE 

A COUNTRY lane! What thoughts arise! 
A boyhood's brief sweet Paradise, 
A glimpse of Hope uncrowned by Fear, 
A time when Heaven to earth seemed near, 
A country lane! 

Who has not watched with wistful eyes, 
Unheedful of the cowherd's cries, 
The clouds creep, crack, then lift and clear, 
A country lane! 

Who says that naught of solace lies 
Within the thought of lanes, implies 
That all is centered now and here. 
That life is but a falling tear. 
Shall Time seem to him when he dies 
A country lane? 



198 RHYMES AND RUNES 



TO AN OLD TUNE 

TO an old tune, a thought arose 
Just now, upon the wind that blows 
From out the lands, where fairies keep 
The secrets of primeval sleep, 
To an old tune. 

A thought that takes me where it goes 
To Love, that blossoms like a rose, 
Beside the song of waters deep, 
To an old tune. 

A kindly thought to come, God knows, 
When many troubles interpose, 
And best laid plans have fall'n aheap. 
O'er all it takes me at a leap. 
Shall my life gently near its close 
To an old tune? 



RHYMES AND RUNES 199 



AT MAIDEN LANE 

AT Maiden Lane and Bedford Street, 
I've known a few good fellows meet, 
Who knew the wisdom of the heart, 
Why smiles arise and tear-drops start, 
At Maiden Lane. 

I've felt the hand of friendship greet 
The weary brother, storm-beat, 
And bruised within the cruel mart, 
At Maiden Lane. 

Indeed, my life were incomplete, 
I feel, had I not known the sweet 
Companionship, that soothed the smart 
Of many a buffet borne for art. 
While humbly following her feet, 
At Maiden Lane. 



200 RHYMES AND RUNES 



A ROLLING STONE 

A ROLLING stone for many a day 
Went bounding on its headlong way, 
In wild chaotic aimless flight 
It dashed along with all its might — 

A rolling stone. 

What started it? ah who can say? 
For aught you know, good folk, it may 
Be — mark you — an aerolite — 

A rolling stone. 

Nay, stop, I will not lead astray. 
Just hush, for pity's sake I pray. 
It fell from a far greater height, 
It was a Man's heart with the right 
Idea of life once — ai de me, 

A rolling stone. 



RHYMES AND RUNES 201 



THE WAY IS LONG 

THE way is long, my brother, will 
You not accept my hand until 
We turn the rising bend, and so 
Gain glimpse of the great sea although 

The Way is long? 

The way is long, my Lady, still 
Your trembling heart I fain would fill 
With dreams of Love that do not know 

The Way is long. 

The way is long, My Master, thrill 
Me through with Truth again and kill 
The hypocrite in me, too low 
For words — forgive me. Master — Oh, 
I pray you help me o'er this hill. 

The Way is long. 



202 RHYMES AND RUNES 



HER WEDDING GOWN 

HER wedding gown I oft have thought, 
Should by the woman's hands be wrought, 
Who in Supreme Surrender dares 
To trust her all, and proudly wears 

Her wedding gown. 

Each stitch a thread of Hope, made taut 
With some divine sweet-lover's knot. 
And silver fancies too it bears, 

Her wedding gown. 

For either this shall be its lot, — 
White emblem of the peace that ought 
To crown the Love that conquers cares. 
Or, bitter thought, as oft it fares. 
The winding-sheet of Faith, I wot 

Her wedding gown. 



R H Y M ES AND RUNES 203 



HER OVERSHOES 

HER overshoes when down the rain, 
Comes pit-a-pat on a window pane, 
She thinks but little of no doubt, 
What use if she's not going out 

Her overshoes? 

But when the streets are like a drain 
And out she must, why she is fain 
To find, as she looks roundabout. 

Her overshoes. 

And do you know I think it gain, 
And try to make her see it plain, 
That Fate may frolic, frown, or pout, 
To all my heart shall give the flout, 
If I shall be through Life's long lane 

Her overshoes. 



204 RHYMES AND RUNES 



HER PETTICOAT 

HER petticoat from what I see 
Beneath her skirt, caught to her knee 
For just a breathless moment's space, 
Is made of billowy silk and lace, 

Her petticoat! 

A soft diaph'nous drapery. 

Of ample width to leave her free. 

To step forth with Diana's grace, 

Her petticoat. 

Were I a poet, ah, dear me! 
Perchance I'd find a simile 
In that which doth her limbs incase 
To foam, such as did Venus' place 
Adorn, when she arose in glee — 

Her petticoat. 



RHYMES AND RUNES 205 



HER PARASOL 

HER parasol with handle rare, 
Of Dresden's daintiest earthenware, 
She fingers as an Aaron's rod. 
Ah, but it is with iron shod 

Her parasol. 

Now like a rose-cloud of thin air. 

To shade her face from the fierce glare. 

Of Sol — the ancient Pagan's god 

Her parasol. 

Dear me! if I could take the care 
Of her, as it does — and could spare 
Her Soul from — Nonsense, I have trod 
The way into the land of nod, 
And find myself when I am there 

Her parasol. 



206 RHYMES AND RUNES 



HER LITTLE HAT 

HER little hat sits on her head, 
Made up of birds and flowers that wed, 
Her dusky dream-lit paradise 
Of hair, that holds in sweet surprise 

Her little hat. 

Though she on Fashion's food is fed — 
My Lady — and by that nurse led 
Who masquerades in this last guise, 

Her little hat. 

Heaven save the mark! since Cupid sped 
An arrow to a man's heart red 
With blood, he would but lightly prize 
The sounds and odors that arise 
From Eden, but would choose instead. 

Her little hat. 



RHYMES AND RUNES 207 



HER SMALL KID GLOVE 

HER small kid glove lay on her hand 
As if it seemed to understand 
The precious jewels it covered o'er 
Dug from the waiting earth's warm core, 

Her small kid glove. 

It pressed what once my heart had planned 
To press, but failed, being over-manned 
With fears — now all it can adore, 

Her small kid glove. 

One day from out a distant land 
An angel-suitor, with a wand 
Of sunlight, beckoned her to soar 
And drop her body, as of yore 
She dropped upon the summer sand 

Her small kid glove. 



208 RHYMES AND RUNES 



IN BEAUTY'S NAME 

IN Beauty's name the Truth was told 
By artists in the days of old, 
Then hearts were lifted and made free 
And fearless as the open sea, 

That none can tame. 

Now men in times of strife for gold. 

With eyes grown heavy, hearts grown cold, 

Forget how they gained Liberty 

In Beauty's name. 

Shall I be counted overbold, 
Who pour my thoughts into the mould 
Of simple rhymes? If, tremblingly, 
I dare to speak of harmony, 
And bid men's eyes to Truth unfold 
In Beauty's name? 



Fair Women and 
Brave Men 



FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 



TO MRS. H. F. McC. 




*^^^^^^Y REED of song I know is far too 
small 
On which to carve her name, but 

may it be 
A sylvan flute to the old Pan in me, 
Through which my inmost longings 
one and all 
Are piped in praise and so made musical, 
In praise of her who is star melody, 
Even as she is the star of Sympathy 
From which delicious rays of comfort fall. 
And though my notes grow faint before they gain 

The golden hush of her high holy place, 
Away beyond my galaxy of Dreams, 
I know my gracious Star will not refrain 

From shedding on me understanding's grace 
Nor hide her comprehending heart-warm beams. 



211 



212 FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 



SHAKESPEARE 

THE blind bard eloquent of Colophon, 
The foremost singer of the Epic Song, 
Is like a river on whose breast the strong 
Young Gods and Heroes sport with Leda's Swan. 
The Florentine, Hell's fires and Heaven's dawn 
Wove into words that to all time belong, 
And like a star shines, piercing depths of wrong, 
A mist of pity round its radiance drawn. 
But Shakespeare, Man, what shall we say thou art, 
An ocean into which all rivers flow. 
Reflecting all the Stars that gleam or glow, 
The conch-shell on its shore — a Human Heart. 
Ah! Idle words we only know Sweet Sage, 
The breath of Being fills thy careless page. 



FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 213 



ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE 

HAIL, matchless maker of rich rhythmic thought, 
Whose ear has listened to the gray-lipped 
sea. 
And caught its mighty pulsing melody, 

And learned its subtle secrets, safely brought 

From days when Sophocles and Sappho wrought, 

From vine-crowned days, when laughing joyously 
The Soul discerned the Body's symmetry, 

And Beauty was the blessing all men sought. 

Ah, but the voice of Villon, too, you heard, 
And all the singers of his after time, 
When sigh on sigh smiled into rippling rhyme, 

Spontaneous as the music of a bird; 

Then taught thereat, you sang as you best can, 
The pain and pleasure, hope and scope of man. 



214 FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 



EDWIN BOOTH 

**"V "TO man bears sorrow better," so he spoke 

l^k I One night, when for a noble solemn space, 

-1- ^ The soul of Brutus lay upon his face; 

And at his voice the sleeping Past awoke, 

And, for he never passed beneath the yoke 
Of self, in home life, or in public place, 
These words seem like an epitaph of grace, 

Carved on Ygdrasil, Time's symbolic oak. 

Where does his message point, oh, brothers mine. 
Who sometimes see beyond the prison bars 
Of Fate, the gleaming of immortal stars 

Of Truth still through the night of waiting shine? 
In reverence, bending low with bated breath. 
The answer takes us back to Nazareth. 



FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 215 



MARY ANDERSON 

WE give you thanks because you paint with light 
The high lights of existence, these the pure 
Who, tried by tempting Time, withstand 
sin's lure 
And lash, and at the end are found upright; 
Hermione and Perdita and bright 

Blythe Rosalind and Juliet can cure 
Care-wound hearts that weep, and lift them sure 
To mountain tops of Hope, where Love's in sight. 
Let others paint but shadows if they will, 

The shadows sin casts on their paltry life; 
You, and you must, can take us over strife 
To Peace, that passeth understanding still, 
Can take us to a land of clearer air, 
Where even Duty's hard face seemeth fair. 



216 FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 



ELLEN TERRY 

FAIR follower of the feet of Fancy, clad 
In clinging robes of ample antique grace, 
Dear dceamer of the Future's human face, 
Whose eyes now dashed with gracious tears, now glad 
With Love's own light, are never wholly sad; 

For well have they discerned, past Time and Space, 
And all the finite phantoms that men chase, 
A goal, where good shall triumph over bad! 
True artist in the all embracing art. 

Wherein the vitalest of minds have wrought, 
Sweet spendthrift of the knowledge genius 
brought — 
The inner workings of the human heart; — 

How shall I praise thee without conscious blame? 
By saying. Life is coupled with thy name? 



FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 217 



JULIA MARLOW 

A NEST of smiles inbloom beneath the eaves 
Of Truth; the love blood of the roses red 
And white at last; in joyou^apture wed 
And blossoming in Beauty budding leaves 
Of heart-warm Hopes, the garland Life achieves 
When fair desires by Faith are perfected; 
Compassion, tender as the green tears shed 
By Dawn awaking in a field of sheaves; 
A breath of Spring as from a wind that blew 

Across eternal Youth's Utopian sea, 
And moments when the Soul came shining through 

Like polar lights of Immortality; 
But best of all a woman clothed in power 
More fair than aught when Knighthood was in 
Flower! 



218 FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 



ADA REHAN 

AS fresh as Dawn, arrayed in grey and gold, 
When tripping lightly o'er a mobile sea, 
As calm as Dusk, dream-laden, silently 
Enticing weary minds into her fold; 
So is that art of thine by Love made bold, 
Upholding Life's best mirror, for the free 
To gaze on and see there — Humanity, 
The same at heart e'en now as 'twas of old. 
Yet still behind the art stands strong and clear, 
A gracious, tender personality, 
A winning smile of sweet simplicity, 
An open-handed heart that offers cheer, 
A soul, a something, I may not define. 
And yet that "something,'' lady, we call thine. 



FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 219 



MAUDE ADAMS 

THE calm caressing hand of finished art 
Lifted the latch of Childhood's golden gate, 
And let me look in wonder at the great 
Sun-rimmed horizon of Youth's trusting heart; 
Revealed the fountain-head where tears upstart 
To bathe the brows of weary world-worn fate; 
And then unveiled the smiles that compensate 
For sin and sorrow's frown and every smart. 
To find a fitting word to speak the praise 
Of her, the fair magician of the dawn 
Of life, again and yet again I tried 
And found it not, although my glad heart says, 

"Now I have seen, in joy I can toil on, 
Imagination is personified". 



220 FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 



MADAM NAZIMOVA 

HER reaching Throat, her supplicating Hands 
And Dawn; these, these I saw, then felt 
that all 
The purple robes of Passion, and the thrall 
Of instincts older than Mankind, and bands 
Begotten in the ooze of Time ere lands 

Took shape, from off a soul began to fall, 
Because that Soul had heard the quick'ning call 
Of Love that unifies and understands. 
Aching to make my peace with the wide eyes 

Of my drowned Youth, there came like flashing 

wands 
To me a sense of Joy, such as a Soul 
Unearthed may feel on seeing Paradise; 

For Beauty smiled on me and made me whole — 
But oh, my God! her supplicating hands! 



FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 221 



HENRIETTA GROSSMAN 

THE wings of Cupid feathered to a dart 
Of wit; the joy of Youth with twinkling feet 
In mischief dancing down dame Rumor's 
street 
To scatter April blossoms in a mart; 
The blush of Nature on the cheeks of Art, 

The music heard where dreams and mem'ries meet, 
And yet withal distinct and subtly sweet 
The hint of Autumn's sadness at Spring's heart; 
A sense of rest in work completely done, 
An atmosphere to breathe in fearlessly, 
A dimpled nest of laughter and delight, 
A ripened pleasure basking in the sun 
Of comprehensive human sympathy, 
A new found facet of the Infinite! 



222 FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 



A BROTHER ARTIST 

ABOVE all vain desirings greatly calm, 
Brother, ycur life towers visible to men, 
Self-centered in the truth of things, again 
A noble soul by silence scatters sham — 
Yea, in your shadow falls a dewy balm 

For those who can escape the prison pen 
Of self, who can, when Truth speaks, say, 
"Amen," 
And hear, as you have heard, great Nature's psalm. 
Doubtless your heart has drunk the bitter cup, 
When what was best you saw discredited. 
And laurels placed upon the worthless head. 
And heard the voice of folly lifted up; 

Natheless you shunned the plaudit-loving school, 
And wooed with winning voice, the Beautiful. 



FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 223 



MADONNA MIA 

1 CLOSE my eyes and see you as you were, 
Madonna of the dead rose-colored days, 
A stately lily looming through a haze 
Of golden light, a fane where Dreams confer 
The Spring-songs of all ages for a prayer 
To Beauty; Nay, an undulating blaze 
Of flower-foam on the sun-paved waving ways 
Of Thought vouchsafed a young Truth worshipper. 
And thinking of you thus, I lift the lid 

Of memory, beholding the embalmed 
Pale mummy of first Love, with tender eyes 
I smile a moment knowing what Fate did 

And left undone before you were becalmed 
Beneath another man's more ample skies. 



224 FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 



ANNA 

BEYOND the girdle of our galaxy, 
At vital Beauty's absolute behest, 
My Soul set sail upon a solemn quest 
Across the sil^ce that must ever be 
'Twixt known^nd unknown, with an earnest plea, 
That Fate might let it face and bravely breast 
The void between Time's system and the Blest 
On starry shores washed by a rose-foamed sea. 
The crowning Verity my Spirit found, 
A wand'ring angel singing, it is true. 
From song on sunbeams writ in notes of dew — 
Might chronicle in satisfying sound; 

Was it not you my own. Love's living heart, 
Nature's epitome. Truth's counterpart. 



FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 225 



TO ANNA 

BEHOLD here is the land where lost Desires 
Are met again in all their pristine glow, 
Fair-faced and fabulously white — as snow 
O'er which the light of borealis fires 
A moment blushes and in joy expires — 

The lost Desires of youth, that long ago 
My heart ached after for it loved them so. 
Now found here in the land where Spring's voice quires 
A melody to Love, the All Supreme, 

To Love, the Master-maker of all song. 
To Love, the God of Peace and every grace; 
And do you know — you Flower of Beauty's dream, 
My lost Desires that I had loved so long 
I find within the garden of your face. 



226 FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 



MRS. I. N. M. 

YOUNG Summer passing with the smile of 
Spring 
Flashed unexpected on my lonely way, 
And left me awed and tactless to array 
My thoughts and give my feeble words free wing. 
Yet I would fain, though dumbly, send something 
Of praise up to that Lady's soul, and pray 
That she will think, as well indeed she may, 
I thank her for the thoughts I cannot sing: 
Thoughts, warm as peonies that perfume noon 

With clinging sweetness in sun-crowned July, 
Thoughts, free as fairies dancing to a tune 

Chimed from vale-lilies in a moon-lit sky. 
But o'er all else and in the foremost place, 
A noble thought that somehow wears her face. 



FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 227 



TO MY SON'S MOTHER 

IF I could take the holy words of men, 
Such words as Light and Life] and Love and Death, 
And melt them into one melodious breath. 
Then tenderly in some sweet Nazareth 
Of Silence bring it forth a song — why then 
I might repeat what my heart hears again 
And yet again in fainting moments, when 
Her hand to mine unworthy whispereth. 
It cannot be, it cannot be I know, 
Yet of her Spirit-wine I would that all 
Who need might drink, and take the road that leads 
Up to the mountain-tops where virgin snow 
Keeps warm the lost Ideal — God, how small 
To blazon her nobility — my Deeds . 



228 FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 



AN ACROSTIC 

W ITH singing hearts we greet again the day 
Immortalized forever by thy name, 
Life-deep in thoughts of thee, it is our shame 
Love finds no phrase wherein to fit thy Fame, 
So Godlike that we turn to thee and pray. 
Has Earth yet seen a man more human? Nay, 
All claim, or high or low or grave or gay, 
Kinship with thee, our brother in Life's game. 
Stand then as Beauty's Prophet and High Priest, 
Pervading us with Sweetness and with Light, 
Enthralling us with Mirthfulness and Might, 
And as thou chantest at Springs flowery gate. 
Replenish us, when overcome by Fate, 
Entirely at Love's sacramental feast. 



FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 229 



SHAKESPEARE'S BIRTHDAY 

UPON the Sancta Scalla of the years, 
I hear the rustHng garments of the Spring, 
And from the earth there comes a 
whispering, 
That even now breaks into lusty cheers. 
Full-throated choruses that drown the fears 
Of man's mortality, and gaily swing 
Our souls to Beauty's lap rejoicing, 
Till Nature's face itself is glad with tears. 
For this is Shakespeare's birthday, he who found 
The key that opens wide the gates that guard 
The many mansions of the Human Heart; 
The inexhaustible Immortal Bard, 
Who climbs forever round by golden round 
The Heaven-scaling scaffolding of Art. 



230 FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 



TO MARIE 

HERE by the milestone of another year, 
That marks the winding way your feet have 
trod, 

Thoughts will arise and questions to your God, 
Why this was so, why that was not made clear. 
Why patience was rewarded with a tear, 

Why everywhere derision stalks abroad. 

Why high endeavor scarce can get a nod 
From recognition, and no word of cheer. 
From out the wine-press of experience, 

A goblet of the blood-red wine of pain 

I drink to you again, and yet again. 
And bid you hope, and find a certain sense 

Of joy in conquered Self, and endless strife 

And gallant bearing in the war of Life. 



FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 231 



WHEN THE MOTHER PASSED 

ACROSS the din and smoke of this dim spot, 
I send a voice that vain would reach your 
ear, 
A voice that fain would melt into a tear. 
And drop like dew into your heart, and blot 
Quite out the grief that now must be your lot, 
As silently you kneel beside the bier 
Of her who now has done with yearn or year, 
And knows the things that are, aye, and are not. 
But in the presence of the conqu'ring Calm, 
Has not a dawn-robed Hope already come. 
And dropped a thought into your mind, in some 
Mysterious way, a satisfying balm, 

A thought that silently doth seem to say, 
"Death is but Birth, Night cometh before Day" ? 



232 FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 



TO A LITTLE GIRL 

▼ THINK of thee, and at the chariot wheels 
I Of Dawn, I see a palpitating host 

A. Of poets' Dreams in golden chains, whose boast 

Of fabled beauty fades as each one steals 
A furtive glance and in obeisance kneels 

To thee, their Queen, upon the vernal coast 
Of Harmony enthroned; to thee the most 
Alluring Joy Divinity reveals 

To me on earth ; to thee the only one 
Flame-lily blooming in the midnight skies 
Of Peace; to thee the mouth of Hope, the breath 

Of Faith, the heart of Charity; ah none 
Like unto Madge this side that Paradise 

That lies beyond the pallid gates of Death. 



FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 233 



TO ANOTHER LITTLE GIRL 

TF by some psychic alchemy I might 
I Distil the wood-notes of an unblown Spring 

^ Into a perfect word, I then might sing 
Of that delicious vision of delight, 
With silver mist and lily-buds bedight. 

That seems from out a pale green East to bring 

An apple-leaf of Love for offering, 
Whene're my thoughts, Catherine, have you in sight. 
Alas! Alack! with this crude utterance 

Alone can I express my thanks for those 

Divine suggestions of the Infinite 
You shed like April-blossoms in a dance 

Of sunbeams on my mind; Ah well, who knows, 

Perhaps you will translate my heart a-right. 



234 FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 



TO MY BOY 

DONALD, my son, you know you bear a name 
Derived from an old Gaelic root, 'tis said; 
It means The Chief, The Leader, or The 
Head; 
Live up to it, prepared for praise or blame. 
Be still the Chief in Life's enthralling game, 
Who lifts and comforts the discomfited, 
Who leads with honor all who can be led 
Along the straight and narrow path to Fame. 
Yea, as you are my heart's chief hope and pride. 
Free, fearless, and forgiving, staunch and true, 
I pray Almighty God to grant that you 
Be nothing less to others; and be blessed 

Remembr'ing in the days when sorely tried, 
Virtutis Gloria Metres, on your crest 



FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 235 



THEODORE ROOSEVELT 

THE spirit of a nation young and strong 
Became incarnate, and behold a man 
Who heard his fearless heart-beats say, 
1 can. 
As cowboy-like he threw a lariat thong 
Of Love around the horns of Fate, ere long 

Thus rounding up our hearts into his plan, 
Of marching ever in the foremost van 
Of Freedom, singing brotherhood's blythe song. 
So year by year we follow his large stride 

In his heroic winning of a world, 
And catch faint glimpses of that Eastertide 

When everywhere Love's flag will be unfurled, 
Yea hear his name still ringing in Time's school, 
While strength is god-like and youth beautiful. 



236 FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 



TO A. J. B. 

UPON her faultless lips I hear my name 
For one sweet recompensing moment, and 
I feel along my arm her little hand, 
And forest dreams and mysteries like flame 
Burn in my heart deliciously the same 

As when we were two singers in a band 
Of rebel dryads, she and I, who planned 
Great conquests in the world of men! Well, Fame 
Has dipped his pen into the Sun and writ 
Upon the green page of the world, for all 

To read. My Lady's name, and as for me — 
It is enough that on her lips I see 
My name. Enough? It is as exquisite, 
As it is comforting and virginal. 



FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 237 



ON MARGARET ROBERTSON'S PORTRAIT 

I STAND before the wisdom of your smile, 
To feel my heart lay down a heavy load 
Of grim anxieties, and take the road 
With Hope again, although red mile on mile 
Of Flame and Sword raise angry arms to pile 

The patient earth with carnage; yet that code 
Of sunny faith in which your soul abode. 
Has strengthened mine to feel whatever wile 
Or woe the monstrous days now bring our land, 
However bruised her fair unbended head, 

She shall surmount at last right gloriously, 
And, hatched beneath the wings of Victory, 
Peace shall come forth and offer a right hand 
And smile, like yours, to the discomfited. 



238 FAIR WOMEN AND BRAVE MEN 



ARAB 

1L0VE you, with a passion woven out 
Of memories of fragrant purple nights, 
And subtle ecstasies and pale delights 
That hovered 'twixt the eyes of Hope and Doubt; 
I love you, with a spirit wrapped about 

With haunting shreds of ancient sounds and sights 
From when God set this Universe to rights, 
And Darkness by the Dawn was put to rout. 
I love you proudly, with a living Faith 

In your high destiny to cross the sands 
Of Time, singing your song, an honored guest 
And blythe Joy-bringer to the troubled breast 
Of Man, but in my tent I pray, when Death 

Says, "Come," your hands will clasp in love my 
hands. 




